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Words pull me in, like a luring tide, and I let them move me.

Cultivate the courage to be yourself

In high school, I knew a group of friends who identified themselves as the “authentics.” Outsiders may have labeled them as misfits, but for them, it wasn’t about fitting in. It was about belonging exactly as they were.

While things like gossip, toxic relationships, and exclusivity were pervasive in high school, authenticity certainly was not. When I met one of the “authentics,” a lionhearted girl that often battled demons, I was instantly drawn to her genuine grittiness and bold way of being. Like a magnet, I was attracted to what I was not.

I spent a summer afternoon with some…

8 insights for conquering the blank page

My experience with writer’s block

If you are a writer, there is a good chance you have experienced the infamous writer’s block. You sit down to write and end up having a staring contest with the blank page.

You write, erase, write, delete, and the words stay stuck in the mind like tedious bits of taffy impossible to extract.

Writer’s block was new to me. I had always experienced writing as a release, like an exhale after holding your breath for too long. I never had to beat my mind like a piñata to get the right words to come out.

Writer’s block didn’t consume…

Tips and tricks that helped me rekindle my love for reading

“Books are a uniquely portable magic.”

— Steven King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

A book is a time machine, a rabbit hole, a time capsule, a tool for teleportation, a deep mine of wisdom, and a way to live a life that isn’t your own. The ability to read is mindblowing when you really think about it. You read words on a page and — like magic — a vivid and detailed image will appear in your mind’s eye. …

30 Days of Poetry: My experience

On April 1, 2021, I dared myself to write a poem a day for 30 days. With April being National Poetry Month, it felt like perfect timing. The only rule for this challenge was to write a poem each day and publish it on Medium.

My intention behind this challenge was to create consistently and with more ease. This meant letting go of my expectations, setting aside perfectionism, and surrendering to the process each day.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous to start this challenge because I knew I couldn’t quit…

30 Days of Poetry: Day 30!

This is what I’d like to call Compost Poetry. Scraps made into something new. Every line is taken from a different poem from the past 29 days. I wanted day 30 to be as stress-free as possible, so I decided to make it fun instead of trying to end this challenge on some grand note. Enjoy!

Take a breath,
especially when it's scary.
Be quiet, sit still,
hummingbird heart.
Freedom lives in the edges of your periphery,
and silence is the remedy.
There is no serenity without surrendering.

When her heart breaks, it shatters.

30 Days of Poetry: Day 29

The poet metaphorically undresses every time she writes.
With every poem, she hopes that someone will find it beautiful…
find it beautiful to see her this way,
bare soul in the light of day,
with the inner workings of her mind
splayed out as a map of metaphors
that lead to the tender parts of her.

You should know that the poet is brave
to let herself be resurrected from a two-dimensional page,
to let a stranger know her like a message in a bottle washed up on foreign lands, finding its way into foreign hands.

30 Days of Poetry: Day 28

The empty side of the bed is a cold shoulder in the middle of a nightmare
and every picture of you is an unexpected snare.
It’s a hailstorm in the middle of June
and every love song I hear is violently out of tune.
I’m sitting alone at a table for two
and every passing day is a different shade of blue.
It’s standing in the rain and having no to dance with,
and it’s crying through comedies when you have no one to laugh with.
The memories linger like smoke in the air,
and memory lane is a path…

30 Days of Poetry: Day 25

I am a fledgling bird on a high wire,
toes curled over the edge,
staring down into the gaping unknown.

Ambiguity has its mouth wide open
and my heart is a trembling kid on a high dive,
feeling closer to God and even closer to death.

But I am safe here, with the world wrapped around me like a
security blanket.
I tell myself, I am safe here, clinging onto this wire,
as I ignore my heart’s desire to see beyond the skyline.

I know that I am missing out on beautiful things,
but what…


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