I was so excited for my first reconciliation. I wrote down every little sin: I ate an extra cookie, I didn't want to go on a walk with my grandparents, I read under the covers past my bedtime, etc. Obviously diabolical actions by a willful child. But I was prepared, nay excited, for absolution. 45 minutes after I entered the booth (I know it was 45 minutes because he told me), the monsignor at my church read me to filth. I was selfishly taking up too much of his time by confessing too much. Other children needed to go! So he gave me a dozen Our Fathers and Hail Marys and sent me on my way. Afterwards, I sat in the pews and said my prayers like a good little Catholic girl, but I knew I had royally messed up. I had sinned by trying to confess too many sins. I didn’t feel cleansed. I felt shame.

I'm fascinated by contradictions. I'm a child of a single mother who grew up in the church. I was the kid always asking "why?" Watching way too much CNN, deeply curious about everything. I spent my teenage years fundraising for fresh water wells and creating programming for diversity and inclusion events. I thought I'd work into the non-profit space one day. Though I was always writing poems, plays, books, songs, that work stayed in the background where good girls kept their selfish ambitions.

I studied cultural anthropology, business, and sports marketing at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore before transferring to the University of California, Irvine to study medical anthropology and law and policy. I wanted to understand why people become who they are and how we move forward after great pain and tragedy. My anthropology studies took me into the depths of human depravity: war, genocide, the darkest corners of what we're capable of. It taught me the value of looking unflinchingly at difficult truths.

The through line for me has been the same: the collision between our internal desires and the external forces that shape us. I write fun, sexy, dangerous but emotionally honest stories about complicated, authentic women who refuse to play by the rules, take up space unapologetically, and are willing to blow up their lives in pursuit of something real, even when they're not entirely sure what that something is. Turns out I never stopped confessing too much. I just found a better place to do it.

I currently work as a creative assistant at Guilty Party Films, where I champion flawed, fearless women who know how to throw a punch, literally and figuratively. The role has given me a front-row seat to the development process and deepened my understanding of what makes a story work at every level, from concept to execution.

When I'm not writing or working, you can find me cheering on my precious Dodgers and Lakers, dancing at concerts, or rewatching When Harry Met Sally and wondering why no one writes romantic comedies like that anymore—which is exactly why I'm trying to.

I'd love to hear from you.