I didn’t start writing to be a writer. I started to make sense of the noise. And maybe, in the process, help someone else do the same.

I stopped looking for meaning in rules and started finding it in people.
It turns out faith doesn’t need certainty—it just needs compassion.

Humanism isn’t about rejecting faith—it’s about prioritizing people.
You don’t need heaven to be kind. You just need empathy—and the courage to use it.

It’s easy to say “love thy neighbor” until someone tells you who your neighbor can’t be.
Maybe faith was never the problem—maybe fear was.

I used to think morality needed religion.
Turns out, it just needed accountability—and a little compassion.

What actually keeps us kind? For a long time, I thought morality came from faith. But the older I get, the more I realize goodness doesn’t need divine permission—it just needs intention.

It’s easy to say “never again” when you’re not the one looking away. When faith gets tangled with power, belief stops being sacred—and starts being a strategy.

It’s easy to call out divine silence. Harder to admit how often we echo it. Humanism isn’t just about what we believe—it’s about what we do when no one else intervenes.