Motherhood, marriage and excessive working had taken its toll. I was exhausted.  I had a hard time walking up the stairs in my home without feeling the aches and fatigue.  I was emotionally drained and scattered.  At that time, I was working two full-time jobs, an English professor and a working activist. I was also looking into PhD programs in Women’s Studies. I was doing too much. I needed help.  I knew my health was declining.  I went to a naturopath recommended by a colleague.  I was diagnosed with adrenal fatigue--a state in which your body begins to slow down because it has been working in “fight or flight” mode for too long. As a result,  you are always exhausted.  I was constantly on ten.  I was living in a panic. I was living with anxiety.  I was living with fear.  I was living with anger. I was in constant defense mode responding to a toxic marriage.  That marriage, inevitably, led to toxic parenting.  But, ultimately, it all was a response to childhood trauma.  I was beginning to uncover it all and make connections. I started seeing a therapist--for the sake of my mental health, who ended up being my refuge for three years on a weekly basis. My naturopath recommended I see a myofascial therapist to help with the tension that had found a permanent home in my body.

I had a team. The veil was being lifted. I was seeing with some clarity, and the path to healing was visible in the distance. In fact, I am still on that path. But, that period of my life marked a beginning, a beginning of my determination to uncover the truth--the truth of who I am. I read through old journals, a practice I began at eighteen. I read my reflections on my childhood, reflections on my relationships. It all made sense, and I wanted to write about it. So I started to write. I began with shaping my journal entries into essays. Then, I developed completely new material that reflected my life in that moment. The process was powerful! The idea of the book, a collection of personal essays on marriage, motherhood, feminism and identity came into view.

In 2011, when I finally decided to leave my marital home, I knew I wanted to strip off all of the old and begin anew.  It took many years to really begin to build a new life, but in that next year, I literally stripped off all of my clothes down to the bare, raw and unfiltered mess that I was in that moment, and I allowed a photographer to shoot me. I barely had on makeup.  At that time, all the makeup I owned could fit in the palm of my hand. My hair was growing out and in that “in-between” stage.  I was self-conscious about my body. I felt unsexy. I was feeling unwanted.  It was hard, but I needed to go to that place.  I needed to reveal myself.  I needed to find the truth.  This was in Chicago. 

Five years later, I moved to Southern California. Still writing, I was compelled to let the photographer shoot me again in 2020.  This time, I was in a different place, both physically and emotionally.  I wanted to go to the desert--the wide open space with infinite possibilities.  Initially, my photographer, my friend, thought I was crazy about doing a shoot in the desert. We discussed this over some time, and eventually, there was a meeting of the minds. His work would become a critical part of my book. His images tell a story. They tell my story. Not every photographer can capture the essence, the soul of another. He did. He captured the essence of who I am in my flat in Chicago and in the Mojave Desert at Joshua Tree National Park.  This book is about my journey. It is a multi-layered piece of creative non-fiction.  Although the stories I tell often involve others, this book is not about them.  It is about me and my responses to those experiences. This book is not meant to provoke or incite.  It is meant to allow you a peek into the soul of another. If that evokes a response, I hope you respond by finding your own truth and telling your story.