My memoir Straight Enough told the story of coming out to myself. But this moment? This was when I came out publicly. When I locked eyes with a woman in spin class and everything—my marriage, my silence, my carefully curated life—started to crack.

Her name was Sandy.
I didn’t know it then, but I’d just met the woman I would one day marry.

I’m proud to share that this story, I Saw Her First, was recently published by the Story Circle Network Online Journal—a space that honors the real, raw voices of women rewriting their lives. Thank you, SCN, for giving this piece a home.

To anyone standing on the edge of truth:
You are not too late. You are not alone.

I Saw Her First

First published in The Story Circle Network Online Journal, June1, 2025.

I saw her before she saw me—front row, already pedaling before the playlist started, like she had something to prove or outrun. Maybe we both did. I was the instructor, mic’d up, fake smile plastered across my face. I was married to a man I swore I loved, living a life I was supposed to want. But inside, I was alone, vacant from lying to myself for too long.

And then there was her. Sandy. She wore a black tank top and biking shorts, nothing flashy. But she had this calm about her—like she knew who she was, and didn’t care if anyone else approved.

Her confidence was magnetic. Dangerous, even. Because I felt something. A flicker. A shift. A spark I’d buried so deep under years of compromise, I thought it had died.

I told myself it was nothing. Just endorphins. Just admiration. Just one of many faces in a sea of sweaty determination. But when our eyes met during a climb, something passed between us—something I didn’t have a name for yet. I held her gaze for a beat too long, forgot the next cue, stumbled over my words. My heart was racing, and not from the bike.

After class, she reached out to shake my hand, thanked me. Simple, sincere. But her touch was electric.

Driving home that night, I couldn’t shake her from my mind. And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel numb. I felt confused. Curious. Alive. I pulled into my driveway, stared at the front porch light, and whispered to myself, God, what is happening to me?

I didn’t know it yet, but my life had just changed. She was the match. I was already soaked in gasoline.

Celebrate Pride with a Story That Sticks

This Pride Month, grab a copy of my memoir
Straight Enough—a raw, real, and redemptive journey through identity, love, and healing. And stay tuned… Damned Daughter is coming in 2026 with even more grit, growth, and unexpected grace.

Want more? I’ve been honored to contribute to over a dozen powerful anthologies—each one a piece of my truth. You can find them all on my website.