I didn’t want to call my father from the public bus today, but the universe had other plans for me. I didn’t want to call him — not because I didn’t want to speak to him — but because I knew the conversation we were going to have would be…

I go back to my high school for the first time since graduation. Four years have passed. I’m here to give the librarian a copy of my newest collection of short stories. I don’t recall her being that interested in my writing when I was still a student. …

And healed from generational trauma. — Over two years have passed since I last came home to visit dad. In that time, we have called each other a handful of times. If I had to, I would guess that we’ve spoken a total of two hours in two years. …

If all I do is run. — Over the past month I applied to, was considered, and then rejected from two of my dream jobs. Initially, I didn’t expect to hear back. When I did, I became obsessed with the idea of potentially landing the jobs. And when the rejections finally came, I felt gutted each time. …

A twenty five year old’s reflection on life. — I turned twenty-five this October. They say it’s the age when you finish developing your prefrontal cortex. You know — that part of your brain that has a massive impact on your thoughts and behavior. …

Unless they can be honest with themselves, first. — So you want to tell your story but you’re worried about structure, grammar, and fancy prose. Every time you sit to write about your childhood or your most recent failed relationship, you can’t help but think about the technical aspect first. You are convinced that nobody will care what you…

And why you should anyway. — Before I decided to talk openly about shame, I lived in fear of people finding out the things I was ashamed of. I was afraid because in my mind, if they found out, they would no longer want me in their lives. …

And the gift it comes with. — I grew up thinking that I needed a reason to justify my behavior. If I felt an emotion, I was taught to justify why I was feeling it before it was OK for me to feel it. Later in life I learned to do the same for my truths. One…

And why nothing is more important. — It’s been over two years since I last went home. I haven’t seen my dad, my stepmom, my cat, or my friends in just as long. My last visit was with my ex-girlfriend. Our relaxing getaway vacation turned into a heavy hospital drama when we found out the night before…