I have kept a journal since I was a child.

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As a young student, spelling came so slowly to me that my school debated placing me in special education while administrators tried to understand how I could comprehend so much while spelling so poorly. But I loved to write. I kept a box of journals filled with the dreams and fears of my childhood.

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In college, I sometimes wrote poetry backward or sideways between my class notes. I didn't want anyone to read it. Somehow, that became a pattern for much of my life—finding ways to express what I felt while still keeping it hidden.

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But I have always loved putting ink to paper. Something happens when I write: my voice becomes clearer. The more I write, the more I hear what I am actually thinking and feeling.

Now, I don't always need anyone else to be listening.

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Writing is how I finally hear myself. It is truly how I imagine and reimagine my world.