Why I Choose to Write

I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember. I’ve kept every journal I’ve ever filled — stacked and stored, pages carrying the weight of decades. In them are sketches and prayers, fragments of poems, business ideas that became real, and confessions from the hardest years. They hold the story of my motherhood, the years of sickness from Lyme disease and mold poisoning, the hopes I whispered when I was too tired to speak them out loud.

Writing has always been my through-line. My journals kept me company when my body couldn’t keep up, when life felt like it was breaking me open, and when dreams were still only scribbles in the margins.

So when the idea of Outlaw Woman came to me, my first thought was: maybe this will be a podcast. That’s what we do now, isn’t it? We listen while driving, folding laundry, cooking, walking. Podcasts make good companions in the in-between moments of life. They fit into the background of our multitasking days.

But the truth is, I didn’t need another thing to multitask with. I didn’t need more background noise. I needed presence. I needed something that asked me to give it my full attention.

That’s when I realized: what I was craving — and what I wanted to offer — was something slower. Something simpler. Something you can’t half-do while checking a text.

So I chose to write.
Because writing brings presence.
And reading requires it.

You can’t skim a life into meaning. You can’t half-listen your way into belonging. To read is to give your focus, your time, your full self for a few moments. And in return, you are met with story, with curation, with beauty — with something that endures.

And maybe it’s the stack of notebooks by my bed, or the way I’ve always scribbled to make sense of my world, but sometimes I think of the women who came before — the diarists, the columnists, the writers who turned private pages into public resonance. It’s been called “very Carrie Bradshaw,” but to me it feels simpler: the instinct to write life into understanding, one page at a time.

Writing is how I’ve always made sense of my life. It’s how I’ve stayed tethered to myself through illness, through motherhood, through building a business and watching it grow beyond the margins of my notebooks. Choosing writing for Outlaw Woman wasn’t a strategy. It was a return — to the one rhythm that’s held me through it all.

So here I am, writing my way back to presence. I hope these words invite you to pause, to gather, to belong.

I want to invite you to settle in with Outlaw Woman.
Most nights, after I’ve washed the day off my skin, I end with the same ritual that’s changed everything for me.
A slow skincare routine. A cup of tea. A book in hand — always two on rotation: one devotional, one rooted in design, wellness, or business.
Reading before bed has become the quiet tether that steadies my mind and reminds me who I am outside the noise of the day.

So this is my invitation to you: make Outlaw Woman part of that ritual.
Maybe it’s before bed, curled beneath the covers, or early in the morning before anyone else wakes.
Let it be the thing that slows you down, that replaces the scroll, that anchors you back into yourself.

Because that’s what this space is meant to be — a place to pause, to gather, to belong.