Journal Thoughts

My uncle’s wife challenged me to start journaling and take a break from fiction. She was right. I needed to take a time out for reflection, so I listened.

The truth is that I don’t really know who I am, and I’m still searching for clarification.

It’s way easier to hide behind my characters instead of confronting myself.

The mirror is a tough object to face. I’d rather hang a calendar in its place and monitor my goals.

I’m a fuck up. I know.

I never claimed to be perfect.

But, I’m still here.

I’m still writing, and most of all,

I still matter.

It took too long to understand that my identity was my own, and it’s not defined by my past trauma.

I don’t have to drown.

I can spit out the water.

I hope someday I make my Mama

proud.

(Though I’m sure she already is. I guess I just want to feel proud of myself.)