Don’t call Me

Title: Episode 10: The Shoot Description: After months of surviving courtrooms, exchanges, and silence, I stepped back into the world. I started protesting. I worked with an artisan boutique. And then—I did a photoshoot. Just jeans, a bra, and a jacket. This episode is about what it felt like to be seen again. To reclaim my body. To remember who I was before the losses piled up. It was the night I...

After the driveway exchange, I didn’t feel strong. I felt broken. In this episode, I talk about what came next—what it looked like to survive the aftermath. The grief that settled into my bones. The rage I never expected. The stories that were told about me while I was fighting every day just to keep going. And the moment I started reclaiming my voice. This story is for every mother who’s been mis...

They weren’t even allowed to cry. Sometimes it was their father putting hands on Ash. Sometimes it was their grandmother threatening to send them to their room if they showed any emotion. So I stopped saying goodbye in the driveway. This episode is about the violence of drop-offs, and how I learned to reroute love — how I started pulling over a few blocks away just so we could have a moment to hug...

There’s a lot I don’t remember from that time. That’s how trauma works — it fogs the details and burns the feelings in sharp. But I remember this: I used my rent money to rent a car. Drove straight to Rochester. Brought my babies home for the summer. And for six weeks, we lived. We swam. We hiked. We drew all over each other with markers. They made friends. They got dirty. We built new traditions....

I was finally in a home that felt peaceful. Coffee on the porch. Open fields. A friend who saw me as human. And still, I was losing my children in real time. This episode is about what it means to be a mother completely shut out — while still very much alive. It’s about decisions made behind my back. My own family working with my ex to enroll my daughter in a private school she wasn’t ready for, l...

I didn’t want to go back to work. The thought of someone asking what happened… of trying to explain where I’d been, why I looked hollow, why I flinched when people were too kind… made me sick. But I went. And that’s where I met Ann. The kind of person who doesn’t just see you, she stays. This episode is about learning how to accept help without bracing for the backlash. It’s about Jeep rides with...

Episode 6: The Year I Started Counting Before the shelter, there was David’s couch. Panic attacks in my sleep. A body that refused rest because the world wasn’t safe anymore. This episode walks through what survival actually looked like — not the hashtags, but the night sweats, the silence, the isolation, and the decision to rebuild anyway. I share what it meant to sleep in a loft bed in a studio...

In this episode, Em unpacks what it felt like to shave her head in the wake of assault—how something that began as sacred and freeing slowly turned isolating. People looked at her like she was unwell, like she was dangerous. What began as power became proof against her in the eyes of others. Even the wig she wore for protection didn’t soften the stares. When the investigator from Child Protective...

Episode 4: Nothing Left But White T-Shirts Season 3, Episode 4 | Say It Happened In this episode, Em returns to the time when survival became a full-time job. Working at a restaurant while being interrogated by the state police, she found herself juggling custody exchanges, rent, gas money, and court—while barely feeding herself. Between the hunger, the shame, and the deeply absurd lies told about...

After I made the call to protect my child, everything changed. I wasn’t met with support—I was met with silence, suspicion, and a system that was ready to investigate me instead of the harm. In this episode, I share what happened next: the retaliation, the isolation, the betrayal by people who knew better—and stayed quiet anyway. This is a story about post-separation abuse, weaponized systems, and...

Episode Title: Home Is a Diagnosis Season 3, Episode 2 | Say It Happened After fleeing abuse and returning to New York in silence, Em hoped to reclaim time with her children. Instead, she was met with judgment, false accusations, and a mother who called her sick at first sight. This episode details the aftermath of exile, the weight of returning without welcome, and the systems that enabled harm b...

Episode Title: The Cut Season 3, Episode 1 | Say It Happened In this opening episode of Season 3, Em takes us back to the moment before the escape. Before the healing. Before the microphone. When survival looked like silence, exile, and a pair of clippers in a borrowed bathroom. This isn’t a story about reinvention. It’s about reclamation. She wasn’t sick. She was done. This chapter holds the quie...

A house that looked like home. A memory just out of reach. And a choice not to take what wasn’t offered. In this episode, Em revisits the shadow of a former life through a dream set a few towns away from where the real heartbreak happened. What unfolds is a quiet reckoning with the past, the people we once were, and the boundaries we now keep. This one is about restraint, perspective, and the powe...

In this episode, Em shares a quiet dream that lingers like the memory of almost-love. Through a kiss that never deepened, a song that never existed, and a pair of pants that no longer fit, she explores the ache of shrinking for someone else’s comfort—and the quiet liberation of deciding not to. This is a story about emotional inheritance, the intimacy of longing, and the unspoken power of outgrowi...

Sometimes the dream doesn’t start where you thought it did. This is the real story—before the tornado. Before the stairwell. Before the door. It begins with rainbow chalk, with memory as protest. It moves through false accusations, the sacredness of motherhood, and whales crashing into concrete like gods coming home. And it ends with a choice: turn back, or let the wind in. In this episode, I reme...

What if the storm isn’t something you survive… but something you seal off? In this dream, the tornado came from outside. Everyone else ran. I turned back. Because someone had to close the door. This episode isn’t about being fearless. It’s about choosing where the chaos ends. About being the body that holds the line quietly, without praise, so no one else has to hear the wind. I didn’t need to be...

I started this dream on a city bus and ended it at the head of a boat—singing a language I didn’t know, calling people home from the wreckage. In between? Glass ceilings that shattered on command. Starving fish that bit but didn’t mean harm. A collapsing bridge, a message from the dead, and a stranger who said, you’re finally here. This is a dream about survival that refuses to be small. About bei...

What if your seat was never in question—just waiting on you to claim it? In this episode of Dreams Between Lives, I share a dream where I almost missed a flight… not because I wasn’t ready, but because I stopped to change. It’s a story about identity, timing, the power of naming yourself, and what happens when you decide to walk anyway—even if the limo already left. Sometimes, the door doesn’t ope...

What do you do when you know it’s all about to collapse—and no one believes you? In this episode, I take you inside a dream where I’m trapped in a house that’s already dying. A sliding stairwell, a splintering beam, two patients too bitter to move, and a room full of people pretending nothing’s wrong. I warned them. They didn’t listen. This isn’t just a dream about a crumbling structure—it’s about...

What begins as a strange walk through a train museum becomes something much deeper—an unmarked map of the self. Curated by someone who once helped me find my voice, this dream wasn’t just memory. It was movement. Misdirection. And a confrontation with power disguised as silence. I flew through houses that weren’t homes. I tried to call out and got called something else. And still—there was a way t...

This episode is a return. To grief. To silence. To the shoreline that held me when I couldn’t hold myself. It’s a story carved across Charlotte, Carbondale, Avonia, and Rochester. Across eclipses. Across motherhood. Across memory. I speak about Shiv—not as a romance, but as a soul-recognition. About the stones I collect at Avonia Beach after dropping off my children. About grief that rides in the...

She thought she was just visiting a cave. But the stone knew her name. The water anointed her hands. And the darkness remembered her before she remembered herself. In this episode, Em returns to a memory buried since childhood— a dream of stairs behind a door, a temple beneath the surface, and a life lived in service to something ancient and sovereign. This is not a story of seeking. It’s a story...

Don’t Call Me: Dreams Between Lives Not all healing comes from collapse. Some begins in a room that asks nothing of you. No story. No apology. No performance. In this dream, I was exhausted. Unwashed. Unfiltered. And for once, no one looked away. He stayed still. Not to rescue me. Not to possess me. But to hold his shape long enough for me to lay mine down. This is the moment I stopped surviving i...

Some dreams don’t come to shatter you. They come to show you what you almost forgot. They come quiet. They come soft. And they stay. The night before the eclipse, I dreamed of the ones who loved me without needing to hold me. The ones who saw me without asking me to disappear. I almost missed the weight of it. I almost called it nothing. But it was already rewriting me, tucking a knowing back into...

In this opening episode, I take you into the dream that broke me open. A wedding I didn’t want. A weight I was never meant to carry. A torn gown, wet hair, and the truth that stillness isn’t danger—it’s freedom. Under the light of a total lunar eclipse, I was forced to face the roles I played, the silence I obeyed, and the lie that holding it all together made me worthy. This isn’t just a dream. I...