Breaking the Fourth Wall: The Night the Plexiglass Cracked
I didn’t mean to break the fourth wall. But the night I stepped onstage with my girls, something inside me cracked open — and for the first time in years, I felt myself come alive.
I didn’t mean to break the fourth wall. But the night I stepped onstage with my girls, something inside me cracked open — and for the first time in years, I felt myself come alive.
For six years, every Muse I’ve written has helped me find the part of myself I thought I’d lost. This is the story of how I lose my way — and how the Muse brings me back.
Senior year motherhood is where childhood magic meets grown-up dreams. A Little Red Hen memory and one last high-school play remind us of the stardust mothers carry forever.
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