I don’t use my real name here.
It’s not about hiding—
but letting the truth speak louder than the biography.
There’s a kind of clarity that comes
when no one’s looking for the version of you they already know.
This name gives me room
to say the thing that hasn’t been said yet.
To name the moment while it’s still alive—
before it gets edited by memory or expectation.

What I write here is mine.
Every word.
It comes from lived experience,
emotional pattern,
generational thread,
soul knowing.
The stories aren’t curated for exposure.
They’re peeled back,
written in the rhythm they arrived in.
This pen name isn’t a mask.
It’s a key.
One that lets me move through the hard truths,
the soft moments,
and the echoes in between—
without needing to perform them.
If you feel something here,
it’s probably because you were already carrying it.
I’m just holding it to the light.
If you know me in real life, thank you for honoring this space—and for letting me stay unnamed, so I can stay honest while I work on embodying my truth out there, too.