Hi. I’m Tess.

I’m a 30-year-old writer, reader, traveler, van builder, weed trimmer, aspiring lawyer, occasional farmer, former waitress, anti-racist, minimalist, feminist, youngest of 8, who has spent the last 2 years living nomadically while writing my first novel and, more recently, studying for the LSAT.

*inhales deeply*

Point being: “I am large, I contain multitudes.” And I want to share my multitudes. But first, the most important piece of information to start with is this: 

In preschool, my teachers nicknamed me
“The Puzzle Queen.”

Backstory: I was often left at preschool-pickup (since my dad worked days, and my mom worked nights and slept during the day — that, and they had 8 children). So, when all the other preschoolers had been picked up, my teachers took me back inside to wait for my parents. And while we waited, I had the whole classroom to myself — all the toys, dress-ups, blocks, the rice table(!!), markers, paints, books, you name it. But I always went straight for the puzzles, working silently and diligently alone on the carpet. And evidently, I was good at them. Fast at them. Hence, the nickname.

Right now: reflecting on this feels significant. Because my Preschool Self will tell you the story of my Adult Self:

if there are missing pieces, I find them;

if there’s a larger problem, I look for smaller solutions;

I know unequivocally that every piece has its place, that many parts make a whole;

I know the answers are right in front of me, if I have the patience to keep looking for them;

and lastly, and most importantly, I know I cannot force something that doesn’t fit.

paint.png 
the longer story of my life:

*grabs popcorn*

For many years, I played it safe. I did the sports (lacrosse; soccer), I got the A’s (Honors; Cum Laude), I took out the student loans (colossal; crushing), I went to college (Salisbury University ‘13), I received the degree (English -Literature), and I moved back home (Baltimore, MD).

Out of college, I quickly realized I couldn’t afford the unpaid internships at magazines and newspapers, nor the low-paying, hourly administrative work, nor freelance writing (see: crushing student loan debt). So I began working multiple jobs, including, but not limited to: waitress, nanny, barista, bartender, and makeup-artist.

In 2015, 2 years out of college, I felt it… I was forcing something that didn’t fit. And I knew, in order to find the missing piece, I couldn’t play it safe anymore. So I quit the jobs, left the relationship, packed up my belongings, and drove to Charleston, SC.

For 4 years, I climbed the F&B ladder in downtown Charleston and built a home there. I proved to myself that I could move to a new city with no plan, no job, no lease, no experience, and no friends, and I could make it work. And I did. I was proud of myself. The missing piece I ended up discovering was myself. 

I completed my own puzzle.

The inevitable backbone I built during those years also fostered my confidence. As a result, I began sharing my writing on Instagram, a platform I used haphazardly. Until one day, it changed my life.

View fullsize Van Update: • PARTS ARE ROLLIN’ IN, GUYS! • The weather in the Northeast hasn’t cooperated over the last month (aka: it’s been cold as f*ck). • So the first steps have been delayed: 1.) Sealant 2.) Rust-Oleum *Both st
View fullsize Looking back at my Twenties like, “See ya neverrrr” • • • Looking at my Thirties like, “Let’s do this shit.” • • • And yes. Yes, that is gray hair. • • • • #battlescars #
View fullsize • Draining apathy from veins like clogged drains. • Drenched in empathy like spring rain. •
View fullsize Was it you? Who stormed the Capitol? • Was it you? Who joked about BLM? • Was it you? Who defended this criminal in 2016? Who checked his box in 2020? • Was it you? Who did nothing? • Was it you? My family member? My friend? &bull
View fullsize I bite my nails. I’ve been trying to stop for, well, forever. • I’ve been told it’s similar to cigarettes and alcohol and, well, every other addiction. • Used for comfort. To take the edge off. An illusion of control. &bul
View fullsize Do not call me a Democrat. I am not blue. I am white. Pale, actually. Borderline translucent. Oh, and freckles. Lots of ‘em. And I guess sometimes, a pinkish red? Because: sunburn. • Do not call me a liberal. I simply read. A lot. Currentl
View fullsize They say you gotta walk a mile in someone else’s shoes to really understand them. • If you walked a mile in my shoes, you’d know I’m a woman. And that I carry a taser in my car because I survived a sexual assault in 2016: the s
View fullsize One fallen tree often leads to numerous fallen trees. • This is a natural consequence when trees grow near each other. • When a tree falls, it maims and injures the branches of nearby trees. Or worse, the trees left standing catch the falle
View fullsize “Privilege is being born on third base. • Ignorant privilege is thinking you’re there because you hit a triple. • Malicious privilege is complaining that those starving [and dying] outside the ballpark aren’t waiting patie
View fullsize Entering Northern California felt like stumbling into a fairytale. Not the fake kind. The real kind. • “THIS is where fairies live,” I speculated in total seriousness, gaping at the redwoods. • When I arrived at my sister’

In 2017, I entered and won an Instagram giveaway hosted by Kate Fagan and Kathryn Budig (a New York Times Best Selling author and an internationally celebrated yoga teacher). And I won.

By the end of that incredible week, I had a mentor; but more significant, I had a newfound belief in my writing career. It felt like being offered a million new pieces to play.

I was given a new puzzle — more colorful and stimulating than anything I had ever attempted before: my life as a writer.

I took this new puzzle from Cabo back to Charleston with me. And in 2019, I quit my job as a waitress and began pursuing my passions:

writing and traveling.

Since then, I have driven cross-country four times in a 4-door Ford Focus. I have backpacked through Southeast Asia, driven the length of the West Coast, and seen almost the entirety of California. I spent two months on the road alone, living in a tent at various campgrounds and wild spots. When the pandemic hit, I settled at my sister’s home in the Northern CA, where I grew gardens, learned how to raise, dispatch, and butcher farm animals, and lived in tin trailer with nothing but an extension chord and a propane tank. I learned how to grow, harvest, dry, and trim cannabis down in the redwood forest and up in the foggy mountains. I’ve slept in a barn and fought off multiple chickens for living space. I’ve hiked 30 miles in a day and haven’t showered for multiple nights. I’ve wandered and gotten lost, only to find myself time and time again.

I’ve spent the last 2 years enriching my brain with life experience. And now that life experience is yearning to be shared in writing. And creating this website feels like the perfect place to start.

It’s a place for all my pieces.