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There are days when I have a lot to say and write about, but I don’t know where to start. I type and I type and I type, but I end up not writing anything that is blog-worthy. Though I am unsure if I know what that even is at this point. I’m a recovering perfectionist, or rather some days I still am one, who reads all the blogs, books and articles I can to know how to be a better writer and blogger. And then boom the overwhelm creeps in. I can’t seem to keep all the advice straight. So I don’t post anything because it doesn’t have a theme or a point or isn’t well-written or doesn’t pass the length test or whatever reason the other people told me I needed to do in order to be great. Too many times I have started blogs and then dropped…

It’s strange for me to share something like this. I don’t always know how to talk about my struggle with depression, and I usually don’t want to. Sometimes I feel like there are multiple versions of myself and they appear at different times. I feel so completely one way one day and then the opposite the next. Despite my desire to not talk about it, depression is something that needs to be talked about. It’s something that can be helpful when learned through the eyes of those in the midst of the battle. Often I find it easier to say that I have anxiety, but not depression because it comes with so many more negative stigmas. I don’t want to be looked down on. I don’t want to be seen as sick or messed up. I don’t want to be broken. I don’t want sympathy. I’m not lazy when I lack…

Unless you are bald, the hair on your head is with you everywhere. It is a defining feature.   I have changed my hair many times. I’ve had orange, red, black, brown, blonde, platinum…to name a few. For the past maybe eight or so years, I’ve had short hair, usually in a pixie cut.    After a bad experience at a salon, I declared: I’m growing my hair out. Then another moment came—where I was fed up with things in my life—and I decided: Ok, I am done with blonde, I am dying my hair brown. This was in an attempt to go back to my natural dark blonde roots. Oddly enough, four days after changing my hair I quit my job. Clearly there was unrest happening in me that I didn’t even know about fully, and it manifested itself… in my hair choice.  I have gone through many different times…

I read a post on Medium from a guy, who said writing comes easy to him. He just sits down and writes. Boom. Done. It’s been like that since he was 10 years old. He just writes like he talks. While writing like you talk can be good advice in some cases (like a blog), and that is super great, for him…to me, that was super annoying! Do you remember that star athlete in high school who could do any sport and succeed at it, even if it was the first time they tried it? It was hard not to be jealous of them (unless that was you), but we all know jealousy gets you nowhere…. Or what about those kids who thought they were the greatest at something, but really weren’t self-aware enough to know where their skill level actually was at? Writing, at least lately, has not been easy for…