My Favorite City in in World

This is undeniably everything I ever hoped for.

My favorite city in the world, April in Paris, the certainty of being engaged at the perfect moment, and blue skies telling me my day had come.

Yet, within months after returning from a trip of a lifetime, nothing would be further from the truth, and this day in all its glory, would be long-forgotten along with this picture that I never posted.

Maybe I never shared it because in my heart of hearts I knew something wasn’t right—yet I invested eight years of my life trying to force myself into a frame that was never made for me.

Why? And why another failed engagement? That’s what I wanted to find out, once I saw the truth of my own choices, stealing years of peace from my life.

No one ever plans to check themselves into a recovery center. But when you do, the weight of that decision prepares you for the fight of your life.

And in that moment, here’s what I knew for sure—I was never going to allow anyone else to define my worth. Ever.

On May 3rd, I began sharing my story. (Scroll below.)

A romance that peaked at the top of the Eiffel Tower… and months later, led me to a recovery center in the middle of Kentucky—for codependency (also known as love addiction).

That’s where the unraveling began.

Chapter 1 of Chasing the Carat is now live. (See My Story tab)

In the meantime—have you ever tried to make something work, even when deep down you knew it wasn’t right?

Addicted to Love

What was it about this image that’s both seductive and captivating, all at the same time?

At 21 years old, I couldn’t explain what drew me in.

But I can now.

This week I launched Chasing the Carat—a deeply personal story that starts with a song I once loved but never truly understood: Addicted to Love by Robert Palmer.

Back then, I sang every word without grasping what the lyrics meant.

I had just married my first love—the only boyfriend I’d ever known—because we got pregnant and too naive to see it then, I was already knee-deep in a pattern of codependency, chasing something I couldn’t yet name.

Approval. Security. Love. A better life. And like the women in that video—glossed over, painted on, programmed to perform—I played the part.

This story will unfold week by week, through a series of snapshots from an eight-year relationship that took me across the globe, up to the top of the Eiffel Tower… and straight into a breakdown I never saw coming.

What I thought was the beginning turned out to be the end.

And the start of something far more honest.

To read along, please click on the MY STORY tab to follow along and I truly hope my story meets you in yours.

We paid $250 an hour to stay stuck...

…because not all help helps.

When codependency hides behind ambition and love gets tangled with addiction, you need someone who can actually name what’s happening.

That’s why this story matters.

Over the weekend, I promised to start sharing more and then I found these sketches in a folder from 2021.

They’re raw. Messy. And yes—I even spelled carat wrong.

But somehow, sketching this figure—and giving it a title—inspired my next step:

The foreword to a story I hadn’t written yet.

A moment that stayed with me for years, but never made the final cut.

I’m sharing it now because what happened still astounds me—and it goes right back to my opening line.

After eight years of ups and downs, I got back together with a man I loved—for the last time.

Marriage was the next step, so we went to great lengths to find a reputable therapist—$250 an hour, no less.

And she didn’t see it.

She didn’t name it.

She didn’t recognize the codependency hiding beneath my high-functioning life—or the dynamic I’d later come to understand as love addiction.

Nor did the two therapists before her.

That’s one of the reasons I’m telling this story—for anyone wrestling with something they can’t quite name.

Foreword:
“You’re getting married!”
Her enthusiasm didn’t surprise me.
She was younger than both of us—professional, poised, and gave us a new sense of hope.
Until that day.
By the third time she said it—You’re getting married!—I recognized something was off.
An awkwardness that hadn’t been there before.
An insecurity—on her part—that made me wonder:
Was it just me… or had he charmed our therapist too?

Next week, I’ll be kicking things off by sharing how this simple drawing evolved into the cover—along with the introduction to 12 short chapters—12 snapshots—spanning eight years and ending with a bold decision to check myself into a recovery center for love addiction—also known as codependency.

Some stories don’t start with a clear beginning—just a moment you realize you can’t ignore anymore.

Want to receive the story, one chapter at a time, directly in your inbox? Register here or click on the button below.

In the meantime, thank you for for being on this journey with me.