I grew up in Japan, because my parents were evangelical missionaries. Unfortunately, I had a sneaking suspicion that I wasn't one Jesus's little lambs. (Spoiler: I wasn't.)

There was the desperate attempt to be good, which turned me into a virgin bride. Who got suicidal. And then got free...but burned a lot of things down in the process. There was life with the Chicago beatniks and gin and therapy, there was the season of the theater, there was Tokyo and parties, high heels and conference rooms, there was an abortion and an epiphany and an earthquake. 

There was a suitcase packed, a little girl's hand in mine, and blooming in green Portland as a happy solo mom. There was a cherry red car. A diamond ring. A memoir. And then-- shockingly-- love.  

Love came with four more kids, an exile in the prairie suburbs, and a minivan. It also came with my beloved soulmate Nick North, and discovering that I was now someone who would use a word like "soulmate."

We embarked on unknown territory and deep healing together as he accepted and shared with the world his true identity as a transgender man. 

There was a surgery that went sideways, a documentary, a dark night of the soul. There were diapers and Halloween costumes and immigration paperwork.

There was a dream-- that became a plan-- but was also a miracle-- and it landed us here, where we are now, on Salt Spring Island. 

Now there are trees, and ocean, and a Secret Project that's coming out in April. There is a house falling down faster than we can patch it back up. There is a beautiful blended family flourishing and thriving, and my own roots sinking down deep, and poems coming through. There are also many, many chickens. 

Look, a lot has happened. Stick around.

You're going to want to hear the stories.