Who Even Am I Anymore?

(A Love Letter to Rediscovering Yourself)

Love my snarky takes on marriage, parenting, and the chaos of raising an AuDHD-fueled family—while still trying to live that crunchy dream, but do not want to upgrade to paid? Help keep the laughs rolling, the sourdough rising, and the wellness wisdom flowing. Toss a few bucks my way—because organic sarcasm and real talk deserve a little funding. 😉

Sometimes I sit down and ask myself, in the middle of reheating coffee for the fourth time and staring into the abyss (aka the laundry pile): What do I even like anymore?
Not what I should like. Not what I liked ten years ago. Not what I think sounds cool on a vision board. But genuinely, deeply, me.

Here’s what I came up with.

I like swimming, being in nature without electronics (yes, Karen, I’m talking about your Apple Watch “relax” notification), writing, reading, learning, spa days, and spending time with the people I love more than cheese — and if you know me, that’s saying a lot.

I like wandering through a farmer's market, taking in the intoxicating aroma of fresh herbs, ripe fruit, and possibly someone’s very questionable armpit. I pick what calls to me — not with a recipe in mind, but with inspiration in my gut. Then I take those beautiful ingredients home, pour myself something fizzy or herbal, turn on some vibey music, and create. I don’t just make food. I make art. Nourishing, delicious, soul-warming art that brings people together.

I like slow, intentional days exploring places I’ve never been — even if it’s just the backroads of Wisconsin or a small town with a name no one can pronounce. I like sappy Hallmark movies (the cheesier the better), red velvet cake, any form of cheesecake, pasta, and lazy bed-rotting days spent watching crime dramas and romantic comedies back-to-back like I’m training for the Olympics of Doing Absolutely Nothing.

I like laying in the sun, feeling its warm, golden glow soak into my skin like nature’s version of a weighted blanket. I like joy. Slowness. Pleasure. And above all, I like presence.