Chapters

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that I have value and that my contributions to society through my academic writing have significance. My insights have meaning and there is importance to my contributions despite writing the things that are triggering and emotionally taxing. I can give glimpses into worlds that aren’t often talked about, or are heavily criticized just for existing. I cannot help who I am, but I can give a voice to the voiceless or be an ally to those who need me to be. I cannot own anyone’s experiences but my own, but that doesn’t mean I will sit by watching idly as communities struggle. I’ll help in any way that I can because that is a part of who I am. I can learn from others experiences and I want to learn as much as possible.

There are times late at night when I am laying in bed wondering where I fit into this world, and often times it’s so hard to see where I fit in or if I fit in at all. I’m an individual that’s an absolute certainty. I am a member of various communities, but I still feel like an outsider or an imposter. Am I? No, but surrounding myself with like-minded people who share similar values in geographical area that is so backwards feels stifling and difficult. It’s not just due to the pandemic, but is something I have struggled with my whole life. My anxiety and depression feed off one another and all these “what ifs” would pop into my head. Lately, those “what ifs” haven’t plagued me and I am able to shrug off the things that aren’t worth my time and effort. since I have found a therapist that I really jive with. However, I think this is going to be a lifelong process to find a balance and to not lose what is most important to me and my core beliefs.