Standing at the Edge of a New Chapter

These past years have unraveled me, rebuilt me, and left me standing here—on the edge of something unknown, something exhilarating, something that humbles me even as it pulls me forward.

I have always been drawn to two ways of understanding the world: books and science. One speaks in story, the other in data. One reveals hidden truths, the other maps what can be measured. Both attempt to get at the same thing—the mystery of it all. The vast unknowns that shape our lives.

For years, I turned to science to make sense of the world. I studied how women make choices in the most complex of landscapes—health, vaccines, the well-being of their children. I wanted to understand why we choose what we do, how we weigh risk, how systems shape the options before us. And then, I became a mother myself. Three children in three years.

Suddenly, the complexity I had studied wasn’t just academic. It was my body, my mind, my heart. The weight of maternal responsibility. The quiet, endless decision-making. The paradox of being both central and invisible in society. And what struck me most was this: I had so much support, and still, it was hard.

And I started to wonder—if this is my reality, with all the resources and education I have, then what about the millions of mothers who are expected to hold it all together with far less?

Motherhood is one of the most transformative, intense, and sacred experiences a person can have. And yet, in modern society, we treat it like a private burden rather than a social responsibility, a public health issue, a structure that needs reimagining.

This realization hit me not as a quiet nudge, but as something much sharper. A clarity that pierced through. I knew exactly what I had to do, and how I had to do it. I've never felt an energy like that.

So now, I am writing.

A book about motherhood in modern society. About what is broken, yes—but also about what is possible. About how we can do things differently, how we can hold women through this, how we can imagine something better.

Last week, I took a step that made it real: I signed with an American literary agency. It feels big and terrifying and right.

And now comes the part that is hardest for me—the part where I let go of research as my sole language and step into something much more uncertain. Unlike many things I have done in my life, where my mind has held the reins, this time it is my heart that is leading me forward. And that is terrifying.

Bringing these ideas into the world means more than just writing—it means starting conversations in real-time, thinking out loud, and stepping into the tension between science and story, knowledge and lived experience.

If there’s a topic you’d like me to explore, something you’ve been thinking about, or if you just want to reach out, please do. I’d love to hear from you.

The best way is through my instagram account, which you can find it at the bottom of this page.

I don’t know exactly where this road will lead. But I know I am here, offering my voice, my hands, my heart to the work ahead.

And I am ready.