“Writing has been my only way of making sense of myself and the world around me.”

My love for language started at the early age of 7. I was in the third grade and spent the majority of my time in the library, crouched behind tables and chairs, shrinking into the invisibility of books spread out as far as my eye could see. I entered every scholastic writing contest my elementary school announced, and won almost every single one. Whether it was my poem about what beauty means to me (the eye of the beholder or the soft elements of nature I resonated with as a child) or the haunted Halloween storytelling project I wrote after watching Monster House, I couldn’t shake the high I felt hearing my name called out over the intercom.

As I got older, recognition became less important to me. I needed a way to make sense of what was happening around me. As a sensitive soul, I couldn’t manage my own emotions when it came to being heartbroken, ignored, isolated, abused. And my obsession with feelings made it difficult to find a sense of community. I turned to pages and pens, the one place no one would criticize or ridicule. The one place I could listen to my inner voice and be heard.

Much of my writing revolves around complex human relationships, love, and obsession. I’m searching for new ways to connect with my own emotions and others. I think this, and death, is what unifies us as human beings. Welcome to my world. I hope I leave you with a feeling you want to hold onto for awhile.