If you ask someone, ‘What is holding you back?’ you’ll often be surprised by the answer. For many of us, the fear of getting started is a major inhibitor. For others, it is the lack of resources or opportunities (sometimes valid, sometimes perceived). …

When you’re ready to set the world on fire I’ll be waiting with my fists turned to open palms the bruises on my white skin like paint on a palette that says I’m here, I feel too — Our scars, our stories will never be the same But when I close my eyes I picture softness like the man…

A few thousand miles away, my boyfriend is probably pulling himself out of the ocean water and onto a dock in the late afternoon sun. He’s probably using the last of his strength to unroll that heavy wetsuit from his shoulders and squinting at his phone to check the time…

I absentmindedly scroll through their pictures on my phone, my Uber merging slowly onto the highway, colors and lights spinning past the window. It’s not that I’m sad, I rationalize with myself, It’s just strange to see. It’s strange to see a person you loved — or maybe loved —…

The ambiance of my favorite coffee shop is louder than usual. I know, every time I walk through these garage-style doors, that there is an energy here I can’t replicate anywhere else. The buzz of voices, ice clinking in glasses, electronic music pulsing through the corner speakers — this is…

“I’m a planner,” I say. The voice leaving my lips sounds more like a resolution than a declaration of fact. All my life I’ve worked to be the type of person who has it all together, checked the little boxes, walked forward with her head high. I’ve always taken pride…

In the back corner of my closet, nestled between the sweatshirt I wore for my last softball game and a bulky mint jacket that my friend embroidered my initials on, is my ex-boyfriend’s oversized hoodie. This hoodie is grey, worn at the sleeves. The collar is ripped and drapes open…

Love, in its essence, isn’t complicated. Although we’ve yet to truly define it, the concept is something that can’t really be understood, and shouldn’t. Love is felt, and yet it’s not just an emotion. It’s an action, too. You don’t just experience or even embody love — you become love…

Ever since I was a little girl, I romanticized love. Blame the movies. Blame my fascination with the ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ characters in my chapter books. Blame my soft, mushy heart for always believing in something bigger than myself. I loved love. I was fascinated by it. …