the edges of myself

words, words, words

I’ve spent years dancing around my writing practice. I’ve moved in fits and spurts through months of writing and months of silence. I’ve paid tribute sporadically to the scurrying stories in my head, and done my best to be nice to myself when I’ve kept those stories caged. I have made declaratives in hopes of …

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Day six was my larger scale re-entry back into life with a newly shaved head. The advantage of narrating my process via social media is– a LOT of people already know that my head is shaved. Not everyone, however follows me on social media– so I dealt with the look of shock many times throughout …

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Yesterday was day five of my self-imposed television liberation– and I’m not gonna lie, it was tough. I did have thoughts of just turning on the damn tv. But I restrained myself. I fought through the temptation to wither and collapse at the feet of my mighty electronic master. I emerged at the end of …

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Among the many realizations I’ve had about myself of late are these two things: 1.) Despite my belief that I am an incredibly open person, I have some pretty massive, fortified walls up around me. And 2.) I have a really hard time trusting women. These two realizations both hit me like a ton of …

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There are so many pieces of my complex puzzle that are coming together at the moment. So many parts of my multi-faceted transformation process are bubbling up to the surface and begging for acknowledgement. I find it hard to know where this story begins. For years I have danced around the same places– intellectually understanding …

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For several years now– too many to count, although it wouldn’t be hard to do, I’ve been silently beating up on myself for not writing. I’ve moved forward in fits and spurts, but they have mostly gone unacknowledged by myself– and somehow I have managed to continue to give myself the consistent message: YOU ARE …

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I have a confession to make. I haven’t been consciously withholding this information– but just recently uncovered it somewhere in the depths of my cells. I have spent years being¬†ANGRY. Horribly, Defiantly, ANGRY. At myself. What I have realized is this anger (that I have managed bury to the depths of my being) has been …

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