Truly, I often feel misunderstood and judged. We all seem to have a hard time finding the right words to say. As for me, knowing how to communicate myself becomes a frustrating and overwhelming ordeal. I just wanted to be seen, but I had to understand myself first before others could understand me. And so I write.

I lay myself down with the words that leak from my mind into my fingertips and onto the page. I lay my emotions, my deepest thoughts, and even all my fears in front of me so I can conquer them without repercussion or judgment. To see myself from the outside is why I write because on the inside is buzzing chaos of thoughts racing by and I can’t grasp one quick enough to make sense of it.

On the outside, I’m reserved. I reserve the best parts of me from others because of the fear that I would burden others if they knew the bolstering colors of my personality. I hold back my words like if I spoke them it’d be venom dripping off my tongue and polluting the world. I protect myself by keeping to myself. And that all changes when I write.

I realize it’s when I’m most vulnerable when I’m the strongest. With courage I take down my barriers and let my words be seen. Sharing myself is all I’ve ever needed to do and to do that I’ve found reliance in only myself and therefore the confidence to be open.

With the wall I’ve built around myself, the words I leak slowly tear it down. I think maybe, just maybe if I write my words for others and the world to see, they’d see me, as imperfect and human, yet still striving for something better and good. Then maybe I could bring out the good in even the darkest of places.

I am writing to understand myself because I live within a schism. There are two sides of me just as I’m sure there are two sides of you. I struggle and eventually succumb to either side whenever it’s deemed convenient. Living this paradox, I lose sight of myself during this internal war. But writing is where I write my war in reflection. Even if not overt, the battles I win and lose are reflected in my writing. Just how literature changes over time as the world changes perspective, I grow through the art of this expression. And I’ve grown to accept each side and see it as parts of me that make me whole.

I write for myself, but I also hope that people will see me the way I see myself when I write. In the raw even if not entirely honest, I try to be.