Hi, I’m Hannah.
I’m from a small town in western Pennsylvania, where I grew up in a tight-knit, conservative Christian homeschooling circle.
Yes, one of those.
Growing up, I was very secure in what I believed. There wasn’t any room for margin or flexibility. The good life was firmly fixed, and all you had to do was stay inside the lines.
But then my life saw a few spiritual earthquakes, and foundation I thought was so secure started breaking apart and floating away in little pieces. Some of these pieces I let go, never to see or stand on again. But there were some cornerstones of solid gold among the chunks of stone, which remained where they were and never shook. I stand on those now, and I’m learning to be okay with the things I do not know.
If I’m too metaphorical, I apologize. The metaphors are why I’m here: I’m a writer. My stories started in steno books when I was six, growing and changing and solidifying little by little. Now I’m a grad student studying fiction, which is my ultimate goal. In the meantime, I run this blog, a collection of personal essays about truth and beauty, art and faith.
My husband, Alex, is my favorite person. He’s been with me through lots of life earthquakes, and has helped me gain the courage to be myself. They say that marriage ties you down, makes you less free and independent. Nothing could be further for the truth. Marriage, for me, is the freedom to explore life with someone who loves you unconditionally, who pulls you along when you falter and who celebrates you when you succeed.
I still deal with a lot of past wounds and insecurities; I’m still trying to build myself up after those earthquakes. But the cornerstones of solid gold I stand on are these: God is real, God love me exactly as I am, and it is possible to have joy and hope.
This blog has been along for most of the life earthquakes, so some of my older content might be rough, angry, experimental, confused… and yeah, stupid. But I keep everything there, because it reminds me of how much I’ve changed.
And how much I still can.