The Morningstar Letters

  • The Blueprint

    For most of my life, I gave love away as though it were something I had an endless supply of.  I gave it to my mother. I gave it to my children. My friends.  The people I hoped would stay.  I just never thought to save any for myself. I wasn’t taught where love came…

  • Letting Go

    For most of my life, I believed my job was to hold everything together. The people I loved. The relationships. The expectations. The stories. I thought if I just held on tightly enough, nothing would fall apart. I was wrong. The funny thing about letting go is that you never realize how much you’re carrying…

  • Chainbreaker

    I was born into a family already carrying chains. Not the kind made of iron. The kind made of fear. Silence. Shame. People pleasing. Pain lived in our home like a monster beneath the bed. Always there. Mostly unseen. Until it reached out and reminded us it had never really left. Like every child, I…

  • 100 Days

    One hundred days sober. One hundred days of choosing myself. One hundred mornings I chose clarity over a bottle. One hundred afternoons I chose hope over habit. One hundred nights I stayed committed to the woman I was becoming. It all started with one simple thought. Let’s just see how today feels. I didn’t promise…

  • Becoming

    I used to think becoming meant turning into someone new. A destined version of myself. A chosen reality. Someone I could design, choose, and finally become. Lately, I’ve realized becoming has very little to do with becoming at all. It is the slow, intentional act of stripping away everything that is not you. Everything that…

  • Pockets

    As a woman, I’ve noticed that good pockets are hard to find. I’m not talking about pants pockets, although let’s be honest, men seem to have that department on lockdown. Somewhere along the way, women’s pockets started shrinking. The funny thing is, I don’t think it stopped with our clothes. The pockets of childhood disappeared…

  • Riches

    I used to believe being rich meant money. Designer clothes. Sparkling jewelry. Fancy cars. I thought riches were something you worked endlessly to obtain, worked even harder to keep, and somehow never had enough of. The older I get, the more I realize I was wrong. On this journey, I’ve learned that true riches rarely…

  • Walking Myself Home

    Walking. Something most of us take for granted. Most children take their first steps somewhere between twelve and fifteen months old. Some take a little longer. Eighteen months, maybe. The irony isn’t lost on me. Because eighteen months ago, I had to learn how to walk again. Not literally. Spiritually. Emotionally. The kind of walking…

  • Cereal.

    Cereal. Something ordinary. A cardboard box filled with sugared grains that children seem naturally drawn toward. Bright colors. Cartoon mascots. Tiny marshmallows. Easy. Then one day you wake up and realize you’ve stopped eating cereal. Somewhere between becoming an adult and becoming responsible, cereal quietly disappeared. Not because you stopped liking it, but because there…