light it up

This blog was born three years ago. Prior to that, I wrote only about Bela, because I was too scared to write more blatantly about myself. I thought people would hate that shit, detest that shit, think I liked myself too much, and have no interest in reading.

I write light, you may notice. Shit can feel heavy, but I’ll end things with a grateful note, and I’ll attempt to tie the grace of this life into ugly. In a world that can feel dark, I want to BE LIGHT. 

But I wonder how often I’m wronging you. Us. Me. When I don’t let on to my dark, at its saturation point. Does that make me a liar? A hider? A sham? I’m not sure.


The cap on last week nearly did me in. I was so low. So very low. I stayed low physically, in the house, on the floor. I sat. I stretched out, and as I lay there, I asked everything above me to show me light.

I spend hours of every day reaching. Reaching out. I text, and email, and call. Authors whose books I’ve read, people who’ve written a beautiful essay, friends, when something jars me to think to them. I reach…and reach…and reach… I reach across county, state and country lines. The tendons in my arms burn.

When I was on the ground, unable to see the very light that I work so desperately to project, I couldn’t feel anyone reaching out to me. I grabbed my phone a thousand times, hoping someone ((*let’s be clear: when I say someone – I mean EVERYONE)) would tell  me I am loved, I am lovely, I am light.


I don’t like myself a ton right now. My face looks different and my body breaks my heart, and my work life is nonexistent. I found a picture of myself from before I left Chicago. My outfit was impeccable. My hair was amazing. And I had a job that provided a steadiness in my feet. I miss that girl so much. 


My writing has been purposefully avoiding the gloom. It’s impermanent, this I know, but it is honest and important. I want to do it more honor.

I needn’t worry about the room darkening. Light, that trickster, she’ll come out on top like always. She flickers, and fights shadows, as she dances through the dark.



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