I write every single day. It’s something I simply have to do. It’s not just because it’s my job, but it’s who I am; a writer.
I love that writing has all these rules and norms, and many of us dance around breaking them for fun just to see what will happen next. (For example, maybe this introduction is too long and meandering).
Funny enough, I just recently started calling myself a writer. Before, I called myself a journalist, and I hadn’t worked as one for nearly seven years.
It’s silly, right? In my mind, it’s easy to say I’ve worked in journalism, and therefore, I am a journalist, but I couldn’t say I write, so I am a writer. The “writers” are somehow different and more established, maybe they have a book (which I do), or maybe they’ve achieved more of something I can’t quite identify.
Anyway, all that to say, I’m glad you’re here.
Writing is my trade. I love to help people and businesses figure out exactly what they want to say. And maybe I can help you. Otherwise, feel free to hang around and read some things.
Hi, I’m Kristy
The Latest Musings
Showing Up Uninvited to the Right Places and Doing Good Work
There’s a difference between being uninvited and trespassing.
Trespassing means you break rules, sneak in, or hide to be there. I’ve rarely ended up somewhere I genuinely wasn't allowed. If I did, it was accidental, harmless, or there was some special exception. But maybe… I put those stories away for now.
I have often found myself uninvited. These are places where I had every right to be but didn't necessarily feel welcome. Being uninvited usually meant something external (people, expectations, etc.) made me feel uncomfortable or awkward.
It’s not a great feeling, and it’s tempting, in these moments, to treat "uninvited" as though it’s the same as trespassing and shrink away or hide in the background. I haven't mastered this feeling yet, so I've made the dandelion my mascot for encouragement.
People spray chemicals and pick fights with dandelions because they disrupt their idea of a perfect suburban lawn. Personally, I think dandelions are pretty, though my preference doesn't matter much. Their presence isn’t a question of aesthetics.
They show up as a signal that the soil isn’t healthy, and they’re doing good work to fix it, making it a little better for everything else to grow. And, they are the earliest food source for pollinators and seed-eating birds.
So, when the yellow flowers push through concrete or are scattered across lawns, I don’t see unwelcome weeds. And they aren’t just little wishes kids make into the wind. They’re actually reminding me to show up in difficult environments, regardless of invitation, to make the world a little better.
In some ways, it’s the opposite of "grow where you're planted." Few people plant dandelions on purpose, and even fewer cheer their silent contribution. The dandelion teaches something different: grow where you make a difference and persist for as long as you can.