Today I wrote and it felt so good. It was also the first day I woke up feeling well, feeling human, since I started the journey of eradicating cancer from my body on September 9, 2026. I am so unbelievably grateful to have a day where, when I opened my eyes, there was no pain, no nausea, no headache, no fever. Just a normal human opening their eyes to a new day, ready to go. And what was the very first thing I wanted to do when I woke up at 5 AM feeling well? The first and only thing I wanted to do was write. So I did and it was blissful.
I chose this photo of a fountain pen because I almost started writing in my oversized LEUCHTTURM1917 notebook with my LAMY fountain pen (yes, both items Neil Gaiman said he used so I gave it a go to spark inspiration), but it was dark and I knew my mind would find any reason to delay the writing so I grabbed my laptop and began.
In the zone
I added some words to the story and allowed myself to diverge into research, refining certain details that have been on my mind, honing in storylines. I allowed myself to write my messy and beautiful draft without hesitation or self-doubt. I thought to myself, I could do this all day if I choose, and I just may.
My second act
I've had many thoughts and ideas about myself and my life begin to build while I have been in bed the past month and a half. One has been about social media and the other the dream of my life. What I want the second act of my life to look like. I have always been someone with lots of interests and passions. I love going to school and learning. I love podcasting with my friend. I love volunteering to make the world a better place. I want to do what I can to make people feel heard, seen, and loved. But what I have wanted to do more than anything my whole life is be a fiction author. The first half of my life I had to get past childhood trauma that had me stuck in a self-destructive loop. Then I began growing into the person I wanted to be but self-doubt around my skill was another hurdle. Being seen as a fraud, not good enough, not living up to people's expectations, constantly needing approval that I have at least the potential to write something good. Now, after cancer and still going through treatment, I feel the beautiful budding of not caring. I will create the stories in my head and if they are not great, I will learn how to make them better with each story I write.
I want to live on a quiet little piece of land, make memories with my family, and, with my little companion by my side, tell stories.
