It has come to my attention that two parts of me have been running the show for some time now and I’m not pleased with their performance. Meet Misses Fix-it and Misses Perfectionist; I like to think of them as the employees of Ariane Hunter Enterprises*. They work...
I sat and stared at this coffee cup. It had my name on it, but who am I? Who is Lisa? It sent me into a spin that lasted the entire day. Suddenly I wasn’t sure who Lisa was anymore. Where had I gone? What...
I had a moment recently where I started doubting everything. My abilities as a wife, mother, friend. and the places where I live and work. The wear and tear of a 2 hour daily commute to a full time job all while mothering a toddler...
There is a long tradition with me of loving all things old. As the oldest of seven, I was born old. Others needed me to be old. Who depended on me? Some days, it seemed like too many. These defining moments called for fancy footwork. ...
I made myself invisible. And I was. Everywhere I looked I saw proof of that. Proof that I was a mousy younger sister of someone beautiful, that people noticed. Proof that by her side I disappeared. Proof that no one found me attractive and that I would never...
Being pregnant is being immersed in a world of mystery. There is a person growing inside of me that I cannot see and it sends me into a state of fear. Suddenly, everything I eat, breathe, drink, and do become more important. I have to...
As I sit here writing, on the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death, I am aware of the impact my mother had on my sense of “enoughness”. My mother was the kind of woman that spoke her mind, loved fiercely, moved heaven and earth for...
My 3 year-old LOVES getting her face painted. Everywhere we go where face painting is offered, she is first in line. Every time, she asks for the same images to be inked on her face: Thomas the Tank Engine and James the Red Engine (my daughter adores...
I went back and forth on what I wanted to write about. Wasn’t sure if I wanted to write about the woes I had earlier in life, or what it’s like being a military wife, or even how I’ve had my own internal struggles to...
I walked back into prison—hearing the metallic buzz of the doors locking behind me, smelling the antiseptic chemical air cut with adrenaline and testosterone—and felt myself shaking. I said hello to the guards, entered the ladies room to change into my borrowed uniform and looked...