When I Stopped Running: Facing Denial and Breaking Cycles

I was in second grade when I thought I was fat for the first time. At eight years old, the societal pressure and overemphasis on appearance had already began framing my opinions of myself. Now, at 34 years old, I’m starting to pick off the scab of denial to address the woundedness festering below. The

New year, new me? How to Embrace a Better Approach to Change

It was New Years Day and my husband arranged for me to spend a night alone in a hotel room. There was no agenda, aside from a massage scheduled the next afternoon. His gesture and my one-and-only new year’s resolution paired like sharp cheddar cheese and a fine bottle of cabernet. After years of failed