Being a voracious reader since forever, I have always been a sucker for a good story. Unwittingly, I tend to submerge myself in characters so completely that for those few moments I belong entirely to them — crying with them, laughing with them — oblivious of the tear rolling down my cheek or the smile plastered on my face, participating in their glee as well as their grief.
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Who Am I?
If someone asks “Who are you,” how would you answer? Could you even answer honestly? Would you even answer in the first place? “Who are you?” A simple question I’ve been very familiar with growing up.
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Toxic Words
Every language has thousands of words, and the ones we choose, I believe, almost always reflect who we are, what we feel, and what we want to communicate. I say “almost always” because I have never been fond of certainties, and I consider doubt an essential element of life, as to not judge people based solely on what they say.
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Finding Community in Identity: Discovering My Autism in Adulthood
I've spent my whole life feeling like I didn't truly fit in with anyone around me. I’ve always felt there was something “off” about me. It was as though everyone except me received a user manual for how to be human. It took me 25 years to realize that the reason I felt different from most people is that I’m autistic. But due to my lack of education on the subject, I went that long without even knowing.
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Heaven Simple
the wind did not howl but the door frame is loose vibrated and swayed like the unhinged rusting tin roof and her anxious heart
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The Inside Story of a Renegade — What’s It To Ya?
It all started in Wichita, the largest city in Kansas, bustling with the aircraft of Cessna, Learjet, and Boeing. Founded in 1861 as a free state, Wichita was Native American land named after the Wichita and Kanza tribes. This land had a rich, deep cultural heritage predating colonization. Filled with dewy, mystic plains and sunflowers that dance in the wind, Wichita is my birthplace.
