#rawandreal
There’s something I haven’t told you.
When you read my words,
when you pause on my lines,
when you sit inside the spaces I leave —
you’re reading someone
who was never “good at English.”
I mix letters.
I trip over spelling.
Sometimes my thoughts move faster
than my hands can catch them.
I’m dyslexic.
School made that feel like a flaw.
Like I was behind.
Like language wasn’t built for me.
But here’s the strange, beautiful thing —
I still had stories.
I still had metaphors.
I still had feelings that burned too bright
to stay silent.
So I wrote anyway.
Even when it was messy.
Even when it took longer.
Even when I doubted myself.
And now,
to see thousands of you
reading something
I once thought I wasn’t “good enough” to create —
that means more than you know.
Because this?
This isn’t perfect grammar.
This is persistence.
This is a mind that reads differently
but feels deeply.
So if my words ever resonate,
if they ever sit with you gently
or shake you awake —
know this:
They were written by someone
who was told they struggled with language,
but refused to be silent anyway.
And I’m grateful you’re here.
Truly.
Feb 14
Feb 14, 2026 at 8:38 PM UTC
Stop expecting.
Start experiencing life as it comes — raw, real, and beautiful.
Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 11:23 PM UTC
Don’t go making the _joke_ — you know, the one
that always hits a girl’s bad note. I used to laugh too…
until I got the _notes on the subject_, and learned,
this isn’t a punchline, but instead hits a girl like
a gut punch. The red dragon that cramps up in
its cave, where swinging at her mood swings
doesn’t make you brave.
She’s in the tide of her red-letter week — a storm
swelling beneath soft skin. Appetite shifts, touches
itch instead of soothe, and even thoughts lose their
rhythm, like radio static in a room full of noise.
And sometimes it's hard to think straight when
your own body is pulling sideways.
And those bloated comments... they don’t ease anything.
It’s a different pain for every woman, but one shared
thread: that you don’t get to add to it. As we may not
understand the full weight — but we can choose not
to pile more on.
And if you’re thinking of making a joke about it…
don’t. __Period!__
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 4:07 AM UTC
Nothing can make things worthless.
A failed mission cannot make technology useless.
A drought or a failed crop can never make a farmer any less.
A crumbled book cover or a torn page cannot make the book less valuable.
A not-so-good-looking dish cannot be any less in taste.
Everything has its own worth.
Even if it faces failures, gets destroyed in some ways— it remains worthy, unchanged to the eyes that know its value.
Jun 23, 2025
Jun 23, 2025 at 5:52 AM UTC
Stopped writing in diaries...
Fearing someone might read them.
Gave up typing on Word documents...
Afraid her privacy might be shattered.
She let people walk away —
Without sharing a word,
Not because she didn't want to,
But because she was done with sympathy...
Something she had seen too much of in life.
And so, she grew silent.
Tired.
She let it be...
Until her heart whispered:
"You're safe with me."
Privacy restored.
But the heart grew heavier than ever.
Jun 9, 2025
Jun 9, 2025 at 2:51 AM UTC
Here we sit at the table,
of our life,
of our home.
It is just you and me,
to say what we feel,
to grow.
I want you to listen,
to my words,
without judgment.
I want you to see my struggles,
without opinions,
without trying to fix them.
I want you to see my struggles,
motivating me,
without pushing me to resolve them.
I wish for you to trust me,
without burdening me,
without demands.
I wish for you to help me,
without deciding for me.
I wish for you to care for me,
to protect me,
without erasing me.
I wish for you to look at me,
without projections,
without fear.
I wish for you to love me,
without suffocating me,
without binding me.
I want you to protect me,
without lies,
but with a true heart.
I want you to hold me,
not out of possession,
not by taking responsibility for me.
I wish for you to walk beside me,
without invading,
without controlling.
I wish for you to accept me,
every dark part of me,
without trying to change it.
I want us to see our struggles,
with empathy,
with solidarity.
I want that after every battle,
there is no resentment,
but peace reigns instead.
I wish for you to tell me everything you feel,
even the things that trouble you.
I want you to know,
that everything I ask of you,
I can give in return.
I wish for you to know,
that you can always count on me.
Mar 3, 2025
Mar 3, 2025 at 2:38 PM UTC
No prize awaits the perfect line,
No end to chasing stars that shine.
Yet life, in whispers soft and sweet,
Is perfect where its flaws compete.
A jagged edge, a broken song,
The fleeting days both short and long.
A tender laugh, a bitter tear,
The dance of hope, the brush of fear.
Each crack upon the earth’s old face,
Each shadow in the moon’s embrace,
Reminds us there’s no need to mend
The truths that shape us in the end.
For in the chaos, beauty grows,
In every loss, a seedling sows.
Life’s perfection, wild and free,
Is simply this: to let it be.
Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 12:29 PM UTC