About Me

Hey there—I’m Deborah.

I’m 42 years deep into this beautiful, chaotic, ridiculous thing called life. I have just enough wisdom to know better, just enough stubbornness to occasionally ignore it, and just enough coffee to fake my way through the rest. I’m the proud, exhausted, and occasionally overwhelmed mom of an almost 14-year-old daughter who is fiercely smart, grounded in her love for God and family, and growing into someone I admire more each day. She’s got a heart full of purpose, a sharp wit, and just enough teen energy to keep me humble. And of course, we can’t forget our family furball, Zara—a kitten with the personality of a diva and the energy of a caffeine-fueled toddler.

I’m also a full-time caregiver to the love of my life—my person—who is battling stage 4 cancer like an absolute warrior. It’s a love story, a battle, and a masterclass in grace and grit all rolled into one. Caregiving is beautiful, but let’s be clear: it’s also exhausting, soul-bending, and often feels like trying to juggle flaming swords while blindfolded. With one hand tied behind your back. During a hurricane.

I created The Gold Hoop Diaries because I needed a place to scream, laugh, cry, cuss, and maybe inspire a few folks along the way. Think of it as a living journal from a woman who’s seen some things and lived to tell the tale—with style, sarcasm, and hoops intact. This blog is raw. It’s heartfelt. It’s sometimes funny in a “laugh so you don’t cry” kind of way. It’s where I share what it’s like to be a mother, a partner, a caregiver, and still somehow a whole-ass person trying to keep her edges laid and her spirit intact.

I’m originally from Massachusetts, which means I’ve got opinions, a built-in side-eye, and a love of Dunkin’ that borders on religious. I now live in South Carolina, where I’ve learned to say “bless your heart” and mean about five different things depending on the context. The culture shock is real, but so is the growth.

So if you’re here looking for polished perfection, curated chaos, or Pinterest-worthy coping mechanisms—you might be in the wrong place. But if you’re into honest stories, unfiltered moments, and maybe a little gold hoop glam on the side? Pull up a chair. You’re exactly where you need to be.

Welcome to the Diaries.