The
Broken
Poet

I'm a millennial woman staring down 40, and spoiler alert: life didn't come with the fairy tale ending. No ring, no white picket fence, and definitely no Pinterest-worth love story.

What I got instead?

A messy, unpredictable ride featuring heartbreak, hard truths, and the emotional equivalent of a PhD in "What Not to Do."

I’ve loved hard—sometimes too hard. Put others first like it was a sport. And yes, I’ve lost myself more than once in the process.

People like to call me a diamond in the rough. Personally, I think I’m more of a moody gem—still shining, just with a little side-eye and an unfiltered playlist.

I write like I live: blunt, honest, and not for the emotionally fragile. My words might come off a little melancholy, but don’t get it twisted—I’ve got a wicked sense of humor, a deep appreciation for sarcasm, and I know how to laugh through the chaos.

By day, I’ve spent years as a rehab coach, helping others piece themselves back together. By night, I’m still figuring out how to do that for myself.

This space is part healing, part confession booth, part “WTF just happened?”

I find inspiration in heartbreak, good music, bad decisions, overheard conversations, and the stories people don’t usually share out loud.

So if you’ve ever cried in the shower and made a joke about it five minutes later—I'm sure we'll have lots to talk about.

XOXO

Therapy? Out of budget.
Psychic hotline? Tried it. (She said he was trash. She was right.)
Memes? Spiritual guidance at this point.

The Dirty Laundry Project is my unapologetically unfiltered corner of the internet—born from emotional wreckage, dark humor, and a chronic inability to mind my business (especially when it comes to my ex's Instagram stories).

"This is what happens when heartache, humor, and just enough healing get tossed into the same spin cycle."

The
Wreckage

Come
As You
Are

It’s for the ones who spiral in silence, serial overthinkers, and anyone who’s ever whispered,
“Is it stalking if I still care?”

If you’ve ever looked at your reflection and thought,
"Damn, I survived that?"

Here, nothing’s too messy to air out.
Especially not the stuff we swore we were “totally over.”

Tell
Me
Yours

Got a story you’ve never said out loud?
Something messy, honest, or just too good to keep to yourself?

I’d love to hear it.
Drop it in the DMs, send an email, or scream it into the void—I’ll be here either way.

Curious? Start Here

Read “What I Never Said Out Loud… Until Now”