Lately, I’ve felt like a butterfly having its wings torn off, slowly, delicately, as if for my own good. The well intentioned yet destructive fingers are my own, ripping rose-petal wings hoping that by removing what makes me new I can once again cocoon for another chance at survival.
Creative non fiction isn’t sunshine and rainbows, but it’s true. Our vulnerability helps connect us to each other. I believe that everyone has a story to tell, and through my creative non fiction writing, I tell stories that are true. My own stories and stories entrusted to me by others.