|| Who are you? || This whole wild adventure started with that one simple—but impossibly loaded—question. And the more I tried to answer it, the more I realized the truth wasn’t hiding in a neat little list of bullet points or some polished elevator pitch. I didn’t want to shrink myself down into something tidy and marketable. I wanted out of that box. I wanted to go home, back to the woman who was born, not manufactured.
For me, rewilding is exactly that: a return to a natural state. A remembering. A loosening. A coming back into alignment with the parts of myself that feel instinctive, honest, and unedited. That’s the path I’m on now, and this wild thing is the trail as I find my way back.
the feralist.
My name is Steph and I am a feralist. Someone who is learning how to be a human animal again. Paying attention to the land, listening to my instincts, and moving through the world with greater presence and curiosity. A feralist is part naturalist, part storyteller, part guide back to the parts of ourselves we’ve forgotten. The work is less about teaching and more about remembering, returning to a slower, truer way of living that brings us back into real relationship with nature, with each other, and with our own wildness.
this wild thing.
As the creator of this wild thing – I hope what grows from it is a refuge for the feral-hearted, like me. It’s not a brand, it’s a reclamation. A remembering. A way back. A slow return to wildness. To a place where instinct meets awareness, where the land becomes a companion, and where as humans, we remember what it’s like to belong to something larger than ourselves.
I’d love to help others reconnect with their inner wilderness: the sensory intelligence, the ancestral knowing, the quiet courage, and the deep presence that comes from being in relationship with the land. Everything isn’t all about “improving” ourselves. Sometimes, it’s about coming home to ourselves. To the version of humanity that listens, feels, tracks, notices, and belongs. And a space like that requires unlearning, unbecoming, and undoing. To abandon the hustle and grind we never asked for and return to the simple, grounded practices that make us feel human again.
The vision behind TWT is a community of people who long for the same, to live truer to self. Those who wish to connect more deeply to the natural world around them and recognize the wild as an extension of the self, not something separate and ‘other’. Nature is a part of us. We are one. Community isn’t limited to human beings. It includes the land and its other-than-human-beings. The wild is also a guide, a teacher, and an ally. Let’s learn to move through the world with more presence and wonder.
our life.
I live in Northeast Pennsylvania—Lenape Nation territory—in a small stone cabin tucked into a few acres of woodland. I share this home with my husband, our Italian Mastiff, Koda, and our cats, Jake and Woody. We also carry the memory of our 17-year-old tuxedo cat, Squeak, who we lost in January 2025 and who is still very much part of our story.
I’ve always felt a deep kinship with the natural world, but that connection has only intensified since moving here. There’s a whole community in our backyard, animals, plants, spirits, the quiet presence of the land itself. They aren’t “other” to us. They’re kin.
Together, we’re working to create a biodiverse habitat that supports coexistence and contributes to local conservation. It’s the outward expression of our inner rewilding, an ongoing effort to build reciprocity and a respectful relationship with the land we call home. As we do this, we’re rewilding our own hearts too, learning to live more simply and intentionally while creating a sanctuary for humans, animals, birds, and all the tiny beings who belong here. Bugs included. The more the merrier. The wilder, the better.
experience.
I’ve been in the workforce ever since I was thirteen years old, way back when, pinching pierogis for cash under the table for food money. My career path, much like my life, was not a straight trajectory nor a gradual ascension. It was more like an indecisive squirrel in the middle of the road. Toxic and chaotic upbringings will do that to you. Where I am today, has as much to do with “unlearning” and “unbecoming” as it did with learning and becoming.
What we bring to the table, to our circles and communities, are a culmination of so much more than our degrees and certifications. Our unique gifts, our individual passions and purpose, our dreams and ideas, our trials and tribulations, our struggles, our triumphs, and the collective of our lived experiences should not be discounted.
In our society, we shy away from discussing the hard shit that shapes our lives just as much, if not more, than our educational and professional backgrounds. Our skeletons, our dirty laundry, our wrong turns, our dead ends, our adverse life experiences. You will find I am honest and open to talking about all that I have experienced – the good, the bad, and the ugly – and how it has shaped my life, who I am, and how I choose to live.
our home.
our family.
our wild residents.
These are the wild and feathered friends we have on the property who aren’t migrants just passing through. They’re either here year round as permanent residents or seasonally to nest and raise young.
- Male Pileated Woodpecker
- Eastern Phoebe
- Downy Woodpecker
- Hairy Woodpecker
- American Robins
- Small fleet of Dark-eyed Juncos
- White-breasted Nuthatch family
- Black-capped Chickadee
- Wiry crew of Tufted Titmice
- Pair of Northern Cardinals
- Resident Groundhog
- Red Squirrel (named Hazel)
- Gray Squirrels
- Cottontail Rabbit
- Various Sparrows
- Several White-tailed Deer
- Turkeys
- Red-bellied Woodpecker
- Hummingbirds
- Flying Squirrels
- Toads (so many toads)
- Gray Tree Frog
- Wood Frog
- Eastern Newt (Red Efts)
- Raven
- Red-eyed Vireo
- Ovenbird
- Carolina Wren
- Brown Creeper
this wild thing, ltd 