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  • Dragged

    Getting dragged this time was part of the healing, not the wound. It was in a classroom. Intentional. Controlled. In December, I showed up for a Level One Intensive weekend with 500 Rising. A few weeks prior, Kerrie Schram had introduced me to Tammy Yard-McCracken, Psy.D., LPC, SAS. Tammy mentioned that there was a spot

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  • The Field

    I do my best thinking when I’m walking my back acreage. Not at my desk. Not in meetings. Not while staring at a cursor blinking on a screen, trying to find something new in the same space I’ve been sitting in for days. Out here. Where the only noise is the wind and my boots

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  • The Gasket

    Waste is the enemy. So if I have fuel in the tank, I burn it. Anything less than pushing myself to the limit feels like I’m being lazy. Right? That’s what I used to think. But here is the thing about engines. If you run at redline long enough, you don’t just run out of

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  • Out of Hiding

    Until last August, I didn’t exist online. My LinkedIn profile was silent. No social media except a private, anonymized IG to keep an eye on the teens. I spent a few hours a month making sure there was no digital footprint. For the last decade, we lived under state protection following years of stalking, harassment,

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  • Mr. Hageal

    I was a sullen, quiet iceberg of a girl. There were not many people willing to push past the prickles. One high school English teacher didn’t just push past. He saw into me. He celebrated, coached and challenged me. He knew I could write better and told me so. I was talking to a boy

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