Settling Into the Next Chapter

On intentional dating, creative risks, gothic stories, and building a life that finally fits

I didn’t expect this year to feel so deliberate.

Not dramatic, even after ending a thirteen-year relationship.
Not chaotic, even after leaving Italy and moving back home.
Not a reinvention, even though I’ve had to relearn who I am.

Just intentional.

My choices have weight behind them now. I finally feel like I’m steering instead of reacting.

For a long time, my life moved fast. Flights, deadlines, new cities, new ideas. I hiked active volcanoes, got tattoos to conquer my fear of needles, and chased adventure wherever it showed up. I said yes to almost everything because momentum felt like progress.

But lately, things have gone quieter.

And in many ways, that feels braver.

---

I’m proud of the woman I’m becoming. I’m looking forward to the day I meet my husband, someone who can add to my happiness.

That’s why I booked professional photos for dating apps. The kind you take when you’re clear about what you want and no longer willing to make yourself smaller just to be chosen.

I haven’t even downloaded the apps yet. I’m waiting for the photos because I want to show up as the version of myself I’ve been building: feminine, steady, and sure of her standards.

---

Between the slower moments, I joined a nonprofit murder mystery theater production of Clue.

I’m playing Miss Scarlet, and strangely, it felt symbolic.

I didn’t audition. I didn’t try to convince anyone to pick me. I was simply chosen to play the woman in red. A character who is unapologetically feminine, dangerous, desired, and completely in control of the room.

After months of rebuilding myself—caring for my body, my confidence, and my standards—stepping into that role felt less like acting and more like recognition.

Like the version of me I’ve been growing into had finally caught up.

---

I’m seeing alignment in every aspect of my life, especially in the stories I’m writing. I’m working on several projects at the moment, and all of them feature:

Women reclaiming their power.
Women setting boundaries.
Women walking away from what diminishes them.
Women choosing devotion, sovereignty, and safety on their own terms.

It isn’t a coincidence.

It’s a through-line.

---

I was also invited to contribute to an anthology featuring gothic fairy-tale retellings. I chose Bluebeard.

I’m writing a Southern Gothic version called The Marsh Widow. It focuses on bayou rot, sinking houses, mirrors, secrets, and a girl who learns to choose herself instead of disappearing into someone else’s expectations.

It’s eerie, intimate, and a little dangerous.

And it feels very close to home.

---

Even though this season looks slow from the outside, my days are full. I joined a gym. I volunteer at my nephews’ baseball practices. I’m flying to Guatemala over Valentine’s Day weekend to rest, think, and draft without distraction.

Space has become one of the most intentional choices I make. Every day I’m up at 4 am, I complete my self-care routine, and I write.

If this season has taught me anything, it’s this: You don’t have to blow up your life to change it. Sometimes you just start choosing differently.

You choose who gets access to you.
You choose the work that lights you up.
You choose the stories you want to tell.
You choose the kind of love you’re willing to wait for.

And slowly, quietly, everything shifts.

This is me shifting.

If you’re doing the same, you’re not alone.

I’ll be sharing more privately this week about the deeper lessons this season has taught me—about standards, desire, and the difference between romanticizing the writer life and actually building one.

— Ashlynn