This one almost didn’t make it out of the vault.

I’ve recorded dozens of episodes over the last year and a half–at different points on my way to healing–as I grieved and found clarity. When I started shaping this season, I realized this one didn’t quite belong to where I’m headed now. But then I listened again. And I understood something important:

On the Record is my closure.

It is the moment I stopped circling the pain and finally named what happened–without apology or self-doubt or my incessant need for permission. It’s where acceptance settled in as opposed to the resignation and defeat of the past. It is acceptance that I did everything within my capacity, and that leaving wasn’t failure. It was completion.

I talk about why I wrote my resignation the way I did, why documentation matters, and why truth has to be recorded before institutions rewrite it. I reflect on building community without a blueprint, on watching that work be dismantled, and on the loneliness that comes when you realize a system wants the outcome but not the person who made it possible.

On the Record isn’t for spectacle. Like most of my recordings, it started as a conversation with myself, a way to listen back, to remember, and to heal my mind, heart, and soul. And in listening, I realized I had reached the end of a chapter–not just in my career, but in how I measure worth, balance, and belonging.

Season 2 was created because this chapter closed.

So, this is me putting it “on the record,” not to prove anything, but to move forward clear, grounded, and open to what comes next.