My Story
I grew up in a house where books were everywhere. If I needed something to do, there was always a book nearby. My mom took us to the library every Friday, and we would come home tired, carrying more books than anyone could reasonably read in a week. I loved reading, but I loved being read to even more. On slow summer afternoons, my mom would read The Chronicles of Narnia aloud, and those moments have stayed with me. Looking back now, it feels like the earliest version of this garden was already being planted then.
In high school, I volunteered in the aftercare program at my old elementary school and started telling stories to the children. We’d sit together and share our favorites (sometimes ones we made up on the spot!). I noticed how naturally children tell stories, and how much of themselves they place inside them. Even then, it felt clear to me that stories are not just entertainment; they help us understand who we are.
When it came time for college, I wasn’t following a clear plan. I spent a long time thinking about what I wanted to study, and what kind of life I wanted to build. I chose philosophy and classics at Purdue University because I was drawn to discovering a deeper meaning in life. During that time, I also worked as a writing consultant at the Purdue OWL, and an editorial intern at the Purdue University Press. Everyday I sat with writers at all stages of uncertainty and confidence, helping them work through their ideas. What mattered most to me was helping people find their voice, because that is something I struggled with for so long, in both writing and life.
I kept finding my way into spaces centered around conversation and creativity. I later became a philosophy podcast host, where I learned how powerful it can be simply to ask thoughtful questions and let ideas unfold. With a close friend, I helped found the Women in Philosophy Society, a small community created because many of us knew what it felt like to be the only woman in the room. Some of my favorite memories from college are the evenings we spent in empty classrooms, drawing and debating just about everything under the sun!
One of the most meaningful projects of my time at Purdue was co-authoring a paper with my philosophy professor and mentor called “Seeing God in a Solar Eclipse: A New Phenomenology of Numinous Experiences.” We presented the work at the Society for Philosophy of Religion in New Orleans during my senior year. I’ve always been a quiet person, so speaking publicly about something that mattered so deeply to me was both terrifying and affirming in a way I still carry with me.
On the outside, that chapter of my life might look full and productive, but it was also a time when I struggled deeply. I stopped writing for a while, and it felt as though my love for words had gone quiet. Instead, I began drawing—on lecture notes, in textbooks, on any scrap of paper nearby. One spring break, my mom gave me a set of acrylic pens. I kept them in a small golden pouch and carried them everywhere. Bit by bit the color came back into my life, and eventually those small drawings grew into what you now see as The Word Garden.
In many ways, I found myself back where I began. I started substitute teaching and reading stories to children again, and I was reminded of how much joy stories can hold. Now, my hope is simply to create a space where people of all ages feel welcome to explore their imagination and personal voice.
I don’t yet know exactly what The Word Garden will become, if anything, I hope it feels like an open place...one that encourages others to grow their own word gardens, too.
