Mother, Wife, Author, Coach, Bipolar, Sober
Those are just the labels…
a little bit about me
My story is one of resilience, absolution, and self-discovery as I stripped away the masks of my past, revealing the deeply human realities of mental illness, addiction, trauma, and survival. Unflinchingly honest and prescriptively transformative, my story sheds light on the complexities of the human mind and the strength required to endure each scar from every rise and fall, ultimately standing grounded and unmasked.
Born in 1982 in Atlanta, Georgia, I was the middle child of three girls, raised in a loving home by Zimbabwean immigrant parents who had converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormon). Their pursuit of the American Dream shaped my childhood, as my dad’s aspirations took us from Atlanta to New Jersey, back to Atlanta, and eventually to Boston and Rhode Island—all before I turned 14.
My first encounter with severe depression came in 1999, hidden away in the secrecy of my bedroom in Providence, Rhode Island. There, I faced overwhelming darkness, marked by self-harm, eating disorders, and complex family dynamics.
After graduating High School in 2001 from Moses Brown School in Providence, RI, over the next decade, in the cities of Saratoga Springs NY, Providence RI and Annapolis MD, my life unfolded chaotically on the tapestry of tainted love and addiction. From my entanglement with Marco, a married man tied to the Italian Mafia, to a tumultuous relationship with Jim, a drug addict to whom I said “I Do”, to Luke, whose boyish baby blues gave me anything I desired, including baby Lily, and finally to Patrick, the unquestionable villain of my story.
Lily brought life to the world on August 18th, 2013, at 6 pounds, 8 ounces. After 16 hours of labor and a lifetime of flailing, I finally understood what true love was, and in giving birth to her, basked in my first taste of “normal.”
“Normal” shattered a mere 8 months of motherhood later, rapidly replaced by debilitating manic highs inevitably crashing into a life changing crushing low. March 2015, after spontaneously embarking on a 1400-mile journey to Dallas, Texas, I stood at the edge of the overpass of the Dallas North Tollway and Mockingbird Lane. All it would have taken was one small, irrevocable act, just letting go. In that brutal, definitive moment, the pain would vanish, silenced forever. The impact would bring the finality of an ultimate exhale. But grasping me with her tiny hand, Lily refused to let me go. Instead, doctors at Texas Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas admitted me to the psychiatric ward and formally diagnosed me with Bipolar 1 disorder.
May 16th 2021, after twenty years of daily debauchery leading to a single moment, in a declaration that felt like a Tony Award-winning performance, I declared my sobriety for good.
In 2022, Martin and I, the man who loves me for everything I am, exchanged vows, kissing under the Mexican sun.
For twenty-five years, my mind fought a relentless battle, reaching and grasping for the illusion of stability. The battle was never mine to win. There is no formula or cure, and I no longer wish to conquer the raging storm. The mask slips away. This is who I am: bipolar, through and through. It is not a chapter I can close or a battle I can surrender. It’s woven into my very being, carrying me into a tomorrow that holds its secrets tight, mysteries I cannot predict or tame.
About Us
“Family is not an important thing. It is everything.” Michael J. Fox
