Why I Write

As a child and a teenager, I was terribly uncomfortable with my thoughts and feelings. I tried copying my favorite writers, putting on their style like an oversized coat. I tried coping with abuse. I tried poetry.

I wanted to say things to someone who would listen without doting, aggression, or judgement. With understanding.

I wanted to find that voice inside and feel free enough to use it. I wanted people to see the world as I saw it, and to see me there in it. To be there with me. And I think that’s the place I still write from: a place of wanting to share something small and quiet together.

June 11, 2014