Sometimes sharing your work as a writer feels like stripping yourself naked for all to see, for people to make up stories out of your own stories and come to conclusions on what certain words might have meant, it’s willfully bringing down your walls, while you stand vulnerable, ready to be criticized, to have your point of view twisted into other peoples meanings and realities, but above all, it’s something that’s freeing, it’s an act of rebellion against hiding, against the need to box yourself, into corners no one can open. It’s a choice to be seen, and one you’ll probably make again, because there is beauty in being seen, truly, not as a title or something else, but as you.