Few things delight me more than cuddling with my two ginger kitties, Fred and George. They are curious and mischievous, known for stealing a pizza slice or sticking their little heads in a water glass. The love to make on-screen appearances as mentors in deep rest and relaxation.

My grandparents grew up in London during World War II and immigrated to the US in their early 20s. I have received both tremendous gifts and burdens from my British lineage. I’m especially grateful that they showed me the power of bringing people together in good times and hard.

I held leadership positions in the marching band both in high school and college. I loved coming together with a team every day to put on the best show that we could. Being in the band gave me immense joy and a community to which to belong. It is a bright spot in my life that showed me how good it feels when I am able to use my gifts and talents to contribute to something bigger than me.

I was born on my dad’s 30th birthday. I have early memories of him tickling me and pushing me so high on the swing that he could run underneath. He died suddenly of a heart attack when I was six. This early loss profound shaped my family’s lives, the role I played, and how I came to experience the world.

In college, I was indoctrinated into the religion of Michigan football. I still go back to the Big House (the biggest collect stadium in the country) at least once a year to cheer on the maize and blue. I was lucky enough to see the Wolverines win the National Championship in 2023.

Live music is a sacred experience for me, especially if I can catch someone I love in a small intimate venue. You will almost always find me at a Lumineers, Head and the Heart, Killers, Florence and the Machine, and Maggie Rogers concert.

My mom is a force a woman. She studied computer science in the 1970s - because she loved it. Widowed at 34, she felt the weight of being a single mom and became a corporate executive at a time when few other women held leadership roles. She gave me a window at an early age of what it is like to live and work in a world run mostly by men.

Maine is my happy place. I first visited Acadia National Park in 2013 and it was love at first sight. For me, it is where green meets blue and my body can relax in beautiful nature. As the state motto says, it is “the way life should be.”

I had a remarkable cold plunging experience with a beautiful group of women in Ireland that has (unthinkably) led me to feel compelled to get into cold water anytime I can.

My brother, Matt, and I learned different ways to “survive” in the wake of our dad’s death when we were young. I learned to push my grief down and meet others’ needs and achieve to survive. Matt was the “black sheep” who coped with his grief and pain by self-medicating. He struggled with addiction for most of his young life. I know intimately the complex role that addiction can play in our lives.

I find my bones yearn to be cozy, practically all year round. Whether swinging from hammock in the summer or snuggled up near a fire in the winter, I embrace slowing down and wrapping up.

I am known among my family and friends (and especially my friends’ kiddos) for my love of a impromptu kitchen or living room dance party. Put on a little Taylor Swift or Beyonce and let’s get down.

Early on in life, I took on the belief that it isn’t ok to grieve - that it would overwhelm me so much that it would be hard to survive. Experiencing many losses over the years, the grief got stuck deep down inside me. I have since began an apprenticeship with grief. Little by little, I am able to more comfortably walk with grief and learn all it has to teach me about life and love.

I loved creating when I was a kid. The art supplies aisle at Office Max was my version of Christmas morning. Somewhere along the way, I stopped. Perfection and judgment blocked my ability to let creativity flow. I am enjoying playing with how to welcome more and more creativity into my life.

Like so many of us, I took on the belief that I need to be thin to be worthy of attention and love. Since my first diet in fourth grade, I have had a long and winding journey with my body. I have experienced the rollercoaster ride of striving to look a certain way and then collapsing and saying “f it all.” I have been slowly cultivating a radically different way of relating to my body rooted in deep worth and trust.