Midwest Mimi

  • This Wasn’t the Life I Planned. Midwest Mimi Is What I Made From It.

    I thought Midwest Mimi would be a blog about chronic illness, homeschooling, and nature. After 132 posts, I realized it had become something larger: a place to make meaning, find language for difficult experiences, and help readers feel seen.

  • I Tell the Story. I Make the Meaning.

    Telling my story did not erase what happened to me. It changed my relationship to it. From telling one safe person to eventually writing publicly, I learned that George could be part of my story without being its author.

  • Closure Is Not Always a Conversation

    Closure is not always a conversation, an apology, or a neat ending. Sometimes it is finally saying what you needed to say, accepting that someone you loved also failed you, and learning how to move forward without pretending the hurt did not matter.

  • I Still Want More

    I am happy with my life, but that does not mean I have stopped wanting more. I still want better health, more money, a home of our own, more freedom, and a bigger writing career. Contentment is not the absence of ambition. Sometimes it is simply learning to enjoy the breeze while you keep building…

  • Help Has a Voicemail

    I have a list on my phone that looks like it should belong to someone who works for a human services agency. Except I do not. I am the mother. Before disabled families receive help, there is another job no one talks about: finding the help. It is a full-time, unpaid, invisible job filled with…

  • I Have Lived, and I Still Love My Life

    Some evenings, peace feels like a summer breeze on the porch. My life has not been easy, and I would not choose every hard thing again. But my life is not only the record of what hurt me. It is family, survival, softness, love, and the ordinary wealth of a home I still want to…

  • Survival Is Not the Same as Safety: What We Forget When We Praise Strong Children

    When we praise children for being strong, we do not always ask what made them need that strength so young. Reading Demon Copperhead made me think about my daughter Rae, about the burned pot of macaroni and cheese she tried to make for her brother, and about the difference between a child being resilient and…

  • When Boredom Starts Looking Like Trouble

    Some minds do not do well with empty space. When there is no risk, no complexity, and no fire to put out, boredom can start looking like trouble. I am learning now that I do not need to kill the part of me that needs complexity. I need to stop feeding it poison. I need…

  • Good and Evil in the Same Skin

    More than a decade later, this is still one of the deepest losses of friendship I have ever experienced. Not romantic. Not simple. More like losing a partner, a brother, and a whole former life at once. This is not a story about one bad man and one good woman. It is a story about…

  • Some Work Is Meant to Be Tended, Not Posted

    I almost posted a children’s story inspired by my mother. Then I realized it was not a blog post. It was a seed. A reflection on creativity, legacy work, poverty, patience, and learning when to share the work and when to let it grow.

  • The Same Girl Either Way

    A personal essay about homeschool culture, girlhood, faith, rebellion, and learning that someone else’s narrow idea of a “godly girl” did not get to define who I was.

  • Not Cosmetic

    A personal essay about illness, poverty, motherhood, Medicaid, medical dismissal, and what happens when visible survival gets mistaken for failure.

  • The Hidden Cost of Simple Things

    A fall in the shower took only a few seconds, but the recovery may take days. This is the hidden cost of chronic illness: simple things are not always simple, and a slower pace does not mean a smaller dream.

  • My Daughter Is Not Half of Anything

    Mixed children should not have to prove they are enough of one thing to be treated as whole. As her white mother, I cannot know every layer of my daughter’s racial experience from the inside, but I can tell the truth about what I have witnessed. She is not half of anything. She is herself,…

  • The Life I Want Is Not Fancy. It Is Safe.

    The life I want is not fancy. It has dirt in it, a modest house, a garden, a porch, woods, pasture, and enough safety for my family to breathe. I am not chasing luxury. I am trying to build stability, space, financial security, and a life where safe is not treated like a luxury.