Who I Am—Backstory

In 2015, I, like many queer people, fell in love by accident, changing the course of my life forever.

I was living in Iowa at the time, and my love of a woman—and what I would later come to understand as my love of women and nonbinary people—along with my community’s reaction to it, made it clear fairly quickly that I no longer fit within the tight-knit Christian community of my Midwestern college town.

The summer after I graduated (in true lesbian fashion, I might add), I packed up my Subaru with everything I owned and moved to the Pacific Northwest. That decision fundamentally shaped how I understand myself, the world I inhabit, and the role community plays in our lives—as well as why telling queer stories matters. Without them, people are left feeling isolated and alone.

Of all the things that defied my expectations, I never would have guessed that being a lesbian and being part of queer community would become one of the most beautiful parts of being alive. It’s not just about who I’m attracted to (though, admittedly, that’s exciting too). Queerness has shaped how I show up in the world and taught me how to cherish connection, care, and shared experience actively.

This is part of why I care so deeply about queer stories. And let’s face it: truly good queer narratives — especially sapphic ones — are still surprisingly rare. Which is wild, considering how literary queer communities are. We read voraciously, write yearning love letters to our darlings, and consume stories through a unique creative lens that, at its best, is admirable in its depth — and at its worst… frankly, a little frightening. (Have you ever seen gay people after a musical theater movie release? All I’m saying is buckle up, babe.)

For years, I’ve been editing queer stories in many forms. And just as much as I love queer people and community, I love good writing. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing someone arrive with nothing more than an idea and leave with a fully formed project they’re proud of.

You’re likely reading this because you’re wondering whether I might be the right person to work with. And I’d love to be. But beyond individual projects, I’m also working toward a larger dream: building a sapphic publishing house dedicated to thoughtful, high-quality queer stories. Whether or not you ever hire me, I want you to be part of a world where those stories exist, thrive, and are taken seriously.

If you’ve read this far and are thinking, yeah, she might be a good fit for me and my work, head over to my Contact page so we can connect. And if you’re more interested in what I’m building with my sapphic publishing house, you can sign up for my newsletter or reach out by email to get involved.