Why subscribe?

Because I want to include you into my uncomfortable. The shitty songs, quirky literary forms, my personal account visiting a nude retreat, for example. Basically, how I write about the most challenging moments of my life post-ministry.

But let’s start with the silly name of this publication.

If someone hasn’t told you, clavicles are dangerous. Seriously.

Well, at least in evangelicalism with its mix of purity culture and complementarianism.

As a seminary drop-out and former pastor’s wife, I obsessed over my body and worried if the slightest aspects of my appearance and personality would woo my fellow believers into temptation. (Ever overanalyze the difference between lip gloss and lip balm on a Sunday morning?)

After ministry, my husband and I talked a lot about what we swept under the rug for almost twenty years, and like any delusional idiot, I decided to recount our sexual incompatibility, my embracing of sensuality, and my own sexual exploration as told through creative nonfiction writing.

Sure, it’s provocative, awkward, and, at times, self-deprecating, but at least I’m getting more comfortable with my body, sexuality, mothering, enneagram 8-ing, and other faculties.

Still trying to make amends with my clavicle, though.

Enjoy my twisted process.