Great news! My poems “Formula” and “Saved” will appear in the anthology Voices from the Attic Volume XXII, which will be published Fall 2016.
These past couple weeks, I am struggling with self-love. I am learning to set boundaries, and what I can and cannot accept. Learning that it is all part of the struggle…
Struggling to feel beautiful, when a surgery on my mouth has left my face swollen and bruised.
Struggling to keep healthy, when the pain killers are causing waves of nausea that leave me doubled over on the bathroom floor.
Struggling to deal with ghosts, people and things that I cannot continue to keep in the past.
Struggling with homesickness, knowing that when I go home, it isn’t the same as it once was.
Struggling with distance, and the many spaces it puts between my family.
Struggling with money, knowing that it is the cause of so many problems, and how it shouldn’t be.
Struggling with time, wishing it away for the next big thing, and in the same breath, wanting it to slow down.
Struggling with standing up for myself, when I can’t do so without apologizing or explaining.
Struggling with friendships, to let go of those that have dissolved or no longer serve me.
Struggling with the definition of womanhood, with the looks I receive when I say I do not desire children.
Struggling with balance, of always being present but planning for the future.
Struggling with work, of paving the way to my dreams, or letting them pass me by.
Struggling with saying no, because it would mean admitting defeat and weakness.
Struggling with saying yes, because it could bring the unknown.
Struggling with death, what to take from it when it takes so much from us.
Struggling with change, how to channel the energy into the things I can control.
Struggling with worry, that robs my days and nights of happiness.
Struggling with peace, and how we will have to create it out of nothing if we cannot find it in this world.
Struggling with my mind, to put anxiety to sleep when it is the culprit of my lack thereof.
Struggling with acceptance, realizing that not everyone will see your heart the way you do.
These struggles, among others, will continue to be there the next 25 years of my life and more, in a larger capacity, with deeper cuts, and in more complex ways.
I believe that the most difficult struggle is not these things against me, but myself. For me to convince myself these small battles mean nothing on the war I’m waging. That to believe feeling everything so deeply does not mean I am weak, or insecure. That I do not have to apologize for my thoughts, or anchor my heart where it is not meant to be. And to stay true to who I am, when I am sometimes not sure who that even is. None of us have