When writing from the heart, it is impossible to “suck”. I need you here to teach me to be courageous, writing just as you write. You’re very easy to read because (I’m guessing) you write like you talk… and that is not the most common of gifts.

A woman I love dearly, who led me away from my own private darkness, just celebrated 38 years free from heroin. She’s a force of light and energy and peace. When I felt like I wasn’t good enough-at speaking, or writing, or what not, she told me (I remember this word for word) , “One day, a woman is going to walk through those doors, dying. And your voice, and your story, are the only things she’s going to be able to hear. So if you’re not there, or if you’re letting your ego run the show and convince you to keep that story to yourself, she’s dead. The only way the hell we went through is worth a goddamn is if we use it to give hope to the dying people who think they’re alone with no way out. We show them that yes. WE FOUND A WAY THROUGH.” Xo

Keep writing.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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