Getting divorced at 21-years old isn’t something a lot of people can relate to. But what they can relate to is being heartbroken. Because that’s what I was: broken.
Writing allowed me to transcend that level, to be somebody else, like a film director who gets to direct how the story will flow; that was my job: to tell the stories I wanted to tell.
I just want to know when someone will notice.
I skipped Easter for the second year in a row today. It just doesn’t seem like a day worth celebrating.
Don’t ever hate someone else convince you to hate yourself. Always be your own reflection.
It wasn’t until my feet were drenched in the Pacific Ocean that I understood how much I loved to travel.
When we planned the ceremony for two years after saying yes, it didn’t cross my mind that my mom with Stage IV breast cancer would be the only one not in attendance.
It’s perfectly okay to cry when you need to cry, to feel discouraged about where you work, or what you’re doing and feel the surge of desire to change it.
Losing a parent sucks. But I think it sucks even more when that person wasn’t just your parent, but also your best friend.
27 isn’t 30, yet. It’s full of possibilities still and a lot of hard work. 27 is that age where you can make it be whatever it is you want it to be. Don’t waste it away.