So recently my life took a positive turn. I started seeing a counselor to help me attack my problem.

What came out of it:

- I ran my fastest two mile.
– I qualified for an elimination round in fencing (the previous tournament I lost every bout).
– in the midst of qualifying, I beat the number one seed.
– my grades are improving.
– and something that’s not finalized yet, but it’s still good news.



I was told that “anything comes true if you wish at 11:11.” I’ve tried and tried that and unfortunately I’m still standing here with the same scars and same nose as before.

I sometimes wish that I had never heard it before; that my life would remain the same.

I find myself sitting in an intricate chair with headphones in my ears listening to sounds and people.

I’m trying to relax, and maybe I’ll learn this time, maybe all of this would change.

And maybe after I relax I can find myself changing and maybe things would change.

Will things really change? Or will it be my perspective?


In a similar exercise to my friend’s “list of names,” somebody went up to every one of my teachers and asked them what they thought of me.

“Oh, that Mem, she’s a hard worker. She’s professional, a bit too energetic but she seems to be stressed.”

Times that by four.

That person just had a sit down with me, I never talked to him before, I never knew him. He wanted to know about me before I stepped into his office.

“That’s what they say about you Mem, and you know what that all translates to: they respect you. Go ahead and learn how to respect yourself.”

I’m staring at the mirror wondering how, or why. Little things are never easy and I always hope and pray I can come up with the right answer to the right problem, that x=y.

But maybe today is the day that everything will change? Maybe today is the first day of many of which I can hold my head up high and realize that I too matter.


These days have been difficult and shrouded in a mist of apprehension, fear, and darkness. I have been hiding out a bit, hoping and praying that the darkness seizes me.

I have been growing up in that darkness but I realize that I have a light within me. My heart trembled at the thought and a little stream seeped out of me.

It’s possible that I too can matter, that I too can take care of myself alongside others. I just have to trust myself to do so.

Everyday I struggle with my self esteem and self-worth, but today I was told that: “a warrior is two things: a fighter and an artist. You lose one side and you lose your fight.”

My voice and my hands have been hidden for so long, mental blockages keep them from moving. I’ve lost my battle and I’ve been losing the war. I feel vindicated now that I understand where my anxiety stems from.

I was told I need nature, I need to explore. The hummingbird needs flight and when she flies she glows.

And maybe while she’s glowing somebody will notice her, care for her, and realize that as battered up as she is, and as much as she’ll fight it. She deserves love all the same.

The smiler

I spend a lot of my days listening to the woes of others and trying to solve them. Somebody called me selfless today and said that it was a character fault – there’s such thing as being too selfless and becoming injurious to oneself.

I don’t disagree with him at all; I understand that a lot of things that I do is in the pursuit of being not selfish, only selfless, staying humble, meek, etc. But at the same time, how far is too far?

I find myself asking my question a lot, because in a way, my pursuit of being selfless is becoming selfish.

I blew a wish into the sky.

I find my cheeks hurt from smiling too much; my heart hurts from caring too much.

I find my inspiration still lacking.

The heavy heart

Sometimes, I wish I didn’t have a heart. That I didn’t have emotions or feelings that ran so deeply within my veins. That I grew up with this ideology that I have to be moral and righteous all the time.
Can’t I just be a dirtbag like most people? Can’t I just be selfish once?

I mean, I suppose, in my own way I’m selfish – everyone is.

But going back to what I mean. I just sometimes wish I could stop caring what other people thought of me. I just wish I had the confidence and the strength to be something more than I think I am.

I watched a video of myself the other day. I didn’t recognize the girl until somebody yelled out her name and she responded. That girl, that happy, beautiful girl with the beaming smile was candidly me. And suddenly, as soon as her name was called I found many faults with her.

And I felt bad. I felt guilty. I suddenly realized then, and only then that because this girl emanated such disdain for herself it bled into her world. People felt that strange energy surrounding her, and it drew them back. She doesn’t like to be held, cared for, fought for, complimented.

And yet she expects somebody else to do that for her.

The caged bird

I find myself trapped in another deluge. My mind wanders endlessly and I can’t find the words to fly.

My mind controls my thoughts, my entire being. And I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being the good girl, the girl who follows the rules. Where were the days this good girl found herself in the middle of the floor, covered in paint.

She was her own paint pallet.

This girl used to have wings but she clipped them off herself, thinking they would destroy her.

But she destroyed herself.