For years, a pair of black velvet jeans hung inside my closet. I didn't buy them as a goal. I bought them because I saw them and something in me whispered, I need these. They just didn't fit. So they waited, soft and patient, the way some dreams do. This year, I handed them to my wardrobe wizard, Jennifer O’Bannon, for The Christmas Witch movie. I thought they would be perfect on my character Morgan, and they were. They helped bring Morgan to life on screen in my first feature as a director. And now? They're back in my closet. And they fit me. That's the ending. Allow me to tell you how I got there.

A particular kind of tired shows up in late August. Not the loud, obvious kind... The quiet kind. The kind that creeps in after weeks of heat and looser schedules and days that blurred into each other in the good way and the hard way both. If you're neurodivergent, you probably know this tired intimately. It's the feeling of standing at the edge of autumn with your structure somewhere behind you, wondering how you're supposed to find your way back to rhythm without it feeling like punishment.

If you've read my books, you know that Amberlight Valley is a place where healing and wonder walk hand in hand. Where the forests carry something old and wise, where the air itself feels restorative, and where the people who live there tend to one another with a kind of unhurried intentionality. Woodland Wellness is that, made real.

The space is warm and beautifully designed, tucked between pines, created for people who are ready to be cared for — not processed. Every session is customized. Every provider brings something unique and deeply skilled. And nothing here is rushed. It's one of those places that, the moment you step inside, your shoulders drop two inches before anyone has even touched you.