My eyes traveled to the red light on the wall by the door. I’d seen enough about skydiving to know about it. My brain slowed when it turned green. The next thing I knew, a jumper just kind of tumbled out of the plane, gracefully and intentionally, but still. . . he was there, and then, OH MY GOD THAT GUY JUST FELL OUT OF A PLANE. Like it was nothing. Emily and I both shrieked. There was definitely more fear in my scream.

In the spring of 2019, I started making a list. When I talk about this list, people call it a bucket list, but that’s not exactly what it is. A bucket list is things you want to do before you die. My list is made up of things I’ve always wanted to do but never dared attempt because of fear. Some of it was fear of doing something scary, but most of it was fear of what others would think, or fear of push-back from others. Fear of striking out on my own and doing what I wanted because I clung so tightly to what I was “supposed” to be or do. Fear built on other people’s fears. I had strapped myself into a life focused on finding safety and not disrupting the status quo, around pleasing others at my own expense. This list flies in the face of those fears, whether they were justified or not.

We are creatures built of stories. They are what hold us together and what makes us fall apart. Our stories, when we share them with others, can weave us together into something shining and beautiful. What starting this blog has taught me, more than anything else, is that while we don’t all have the same experiences, we all have the same emotions. We’ve all been at the bottom of the well. And something that I think we need more than ever, especially when we’re at the bottom, is to know we’re not alone.

Where my writing for myself is a disorganized gush of words and emotions and memories, I’ve been surprised to find that writing for my blog taps into a deeper wisdom. It helps me organize and make sense of the myriad impressions swirling around in my head. When I’m done writing, I feel like a different person. It’s like the telling of the story shapes me as much as experiencing it did.

Here’s how I cut this t-shirt! Want me to cut one for you? Let me know!