subject line: the truth, for once.


clayton, georgia

The other day, I read that the body starts dying at age twenty-five. I’m going to be twenty-five this year, and one of my biggest fears is that I have never truly been myself. I’ve spent my life trying to be too many other people. Everything I say and do is something someone else has already said or done. I pride myself on being honest, but the truth is, I’ve spent the better part of the last decade hiding. Sometimes, I leave bread crumbs — give tiny pieces of myself away, in hopes that someone might see something of value. I never imagined I would be this afraid of vulnerability, totally paralyzed by the thought of admitting that I’m anything other than okay. Ecclesiastes says that God makes everything beautiful in its time. I’m trying to remember that. I do want to be beautiful.