The truth about anxiety is that no matter what words I type, I want to hit the delete button. And that truth transcends into every aspect of my life.
I can’t speak. He waits for me to say something… anything. Tears taste salty and sting the rawness in my throat, but I won’t let them fall. I’ve been a writer on mute most of my life.
I’m halfway through a therapy session when I have a sudden thought. I really want a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “I do what I want.” I want it so badly ... In my head they are code words for “Fuck you...."
During the entirety of my 20s and 30s I was asked when I was going to settle down and get married. I would always respond: When it’s legal for everyone I will consider it. Then marriage equality happened and I had that “oh fuck” moment...
I pulled out my favorite summer dress and let it fall familiarly over me as I smiled at the memories enshrouded in the fabric. It’s purple and pink and everything that makes me feel free.
As my Project 365 comes to a close, I am going to take some time to reflect, and write, about the lessons that came with it. The project helped me be strong enough to ask for help; to be more vulnerable. It’s hard, it sucks, and I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Returning from Texas I told my trainer I was ready for more... I looked at her and said: “I want to be strong.”
The question the guy in the bar didn’t ask was why. Why get a tattoo is a question I get on a regular basis. … why, indeed.