The Burden
Leadership isn't the meetings, the title, or the authority. It's the weight you carry home after everyone else has gone to bed. Four years after my cardiac arrests, sleep still eludes me, and on nights like this, I find myself lying awake, replaying conversations, questioning decisions, and worrying about people I'm not even empowered to help. That's the burden nobody tells you about.
Done Waiting
Eight months is long enough. Long enough to wait. Long enough to trust the process. Long enough to hope someone else would ask the hard questions. Tonight, I decided I'm done waiting. If nobody else is willing to fight for motorcycle safety and accountability, then I'll do it myself.
Choosing Each Other
The day began with a broken water line and the sinking feeling that comes from being hundreds of miles away when someone you love needs you. But by the end of the weekend, none of that would matter. Because some people don't just choose to spend time with you. They choose to build a life beside you.
The Price of Going Home
The ride home was brutal. Triple-digit heat. Relentless crosswinds. Bugs. A lost wallet somewhere in southern Colorado. And yet, not once during those long miles did I wish I hadn't gone. Some journeys are worth every inconvenience because of who's waiting at the other end.
Fifty-Four
A freezing ride through rain, hail, and wind should have been the story of my birthday weekend. Instead, somewhere between New Mexico and Colorado, I realized something far more important: after a lifetime of surviving, I've finally given myself permission to be happy.
The Best Laid Plans
The plan was simple: breakfast at Pantry Dos, point Nyx north, and ride to Colorado to see my girlfriend. Then the throttle died, the starter spun, and my beautifully orchestrated weekend turned into trailers, logistics, and a different Harley. But the destination never changed.
We Speak the Same Language
There are some things in life that can't be explained. They can only be understood by someone who's walked the same road. After years of believing recovery was a path I had to walk alone, I finally met someone who already spoke the language my soul had been trying to translate.
A Healer’s Words
For years, Kerry has been helping put my body back together. Now she's telling me that my words might help put someone else's spirit back together. That's a humbling thing to hear from someone who has dedicated her life to helping others heal.
Keep Your Chin Up
A transgender motorcycle rider reflects on humiliation, resilience, rage, and the strange discipline of keeping your composure while life repeatedly tests your patience. Sometimes survival looks less like peace and more like holding your chin up while internally plotting arson.
The Survivor’s Club
There’s a moment when you realize the scars aren’t random. They tell a story … of holding on, of not letting go, of surviving something that was trying to end you. And when you meet others who carry the same marks, you recognize it immediately. You’re part of something now.
Tonight, That Is Enough
For years, I was overlooked. But not now. And maybe that timing wasn’t a mistake. Maybe I was meant to be here, with these people, at this exact moment.
The Sting of “Sir”
I pretend it doesn’t bother me. I’ve learned to pick my battles. But every “sir” lands, and over time, those moments add up in ways people don’t see.
The Ones Who Get It
Some people don’t do small talk. They don’t skim the surface or fill silence with noise. They go straight to the things that matter. When you find one of those people… you know.
The Edge of the Tear
I don’t write to decorate ideas. I write to catch the moment before they break, the edge of the tear, suspended between control and release.
Closer to Closure?
I didn’t call her for revenge. I called because I wanted to finish something. To look her in the eye and say the words that would finally let me walk away.
Rolling Forward
What started as a quiet curiosity turned into something louder, something undeniable. A cold morning ride, a nervous first step into a new world, and a reminder that it’s never too late to chase the things that have always called your name.
1:00 a.m. Courage
There’s a certain kind of courage that only shows up at 1:00 a.m., usually soaked in alcohol and aimed in the wrong direction. This is a story about commitment, accountability, and what actually matters when your life is on the line.
I Got It Right
I’m not smiling because I wrote a book. That’s just mile marker one. You don’t celebrate at mile marker one, you keep walking. You build strength. You send a signal to the universe that you’re not done. I’m smiling because I got the message right… and it’s landing.
Pollen, Pain, and a Published Book
I can’t breathe. Not metaphorically, literally. My nose is wrecked, my face is stitched back together, and Albuquerque pollen decided to show up like it had a personal grudge. But somewhere between the pain, the irritation, and the sheer stubbornness of it all… my book went live. And honestly? I’ll take that win.