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Why yes I am :) I’ve spent my whole life trying to wrap my head around who I am. And I don’t know how many people can actually define themselves — or even want to — but I’ve always tried to make sense of the things I do, think, feel, and react to. And sometimes? It just doesn’t make sense. Sometimes I’ll catch myself doing something or loving something or getting mad about something and think: “Who the hell are you, Daphne?” Not in a mean way. Not in a confused way. More like

There’s a certain kind of loneliness that only shows up at night. Not the kind that comes from being alone — the kind that comes from being scared, exhausted, and trying to hold yourself together until morning. I’m not sick tonight. Just sleepless. Just awake in a house that’s quiet, with Chuck breathing beside me, safe and warm and right there. But even now, even on a night like this, I remember the other ones. The nights when I was so sick I couldn’t lay down. The nights wh

I refuse to hate. Not because the world is gentle — it’s not. Not because people always deserve grace — they don’t. I refuse to hate because it’s too damn easy. It’s the laziest emotion on the menu. You can fall into it without even trying, and once you’re in it, good luck climbing back out. Everywhere you look, people are screaming about politics, racism, opinions, whatever the outrage-of-the-day is. Everybody wants you to pick a side and set the other one on fire. But I’m n

I’m sitting here watching the end of LOST for the fourth time, crying like it’s the first. I love this show lol. And I’m angry at it, too — because it never gives you all the answers. It leaves things open, unresolved, unfinished. Maybe that’s why it hits harder tonight. My real life has felt a lot like that lately — wanting closure in places where there just isn’t any. Maybe that’s why it hit harder tonight. Because the last few weeks have felt like their own kind of finale

I’ve spent most of my life being “the strong one,” “the outspoken one,” “the one who can handle anything.” And sure, I’ve always had a personality — but that doesn’t mean I always had permission. Especially permission from myself. I wasn’t quiet in the traditional sense. I wasn’t soft-spoken or invisible. My version of quiet was different. I kept the peace. I read the room. I swallowed things that hurt because dealing with the fallout felt worse. I held my tongue when explodi

My guess is that most people would look at my life from the outside and say "What are you doing?? You've rented out your home to strangers; you don't even have a home anymore. You live in a camper or a concrete building (my current location if you didn't know). You quit the job you've done for over 20 years. You are pretty much broke. You don't have a lot of friends. What in the hell has happened to you?" And to those people I would have to say- Please save your pity

I'm writing today because I'm tired. I'm tired and I don't feel great. All I want to do is lay down and sleep. Just turn it all off. But I should be doing other things. I have things undone, half done, not done. So here starts my daily struggle of feeling like a worthless piece of shit. Yeah, strong words, but it's the absolute truth. My whole adult life has been spent like this. Not enough time or energy. The want is there. The need is there. The need is always freaking ther

Ask a woman- ANY woman- what she thinks is wrong with herself, and I promise you that she will have many answers. Answers that you may...