and here you are living despite it all...

life is a lot, but here you are anyway.

I got my first tattoo the day I turned 18. It’s a single-line poem by Rupi Kaur, “and here you are living despite it all…”

If you, too, are somewhere between a millennial and a Gen Z (s/o ‘97 babies) and spent any amount of your childhood addicted to curating the perfect Tumblr aesthetic, maybe you’ll recognize the line.

It’s one that caught my attention at the height of my eating disorder, when angst and anger were my constant companions. When my Tumblr feed consisted mainly of sad quotes and black and white images of broken hearts - yes, I was that girl.

I saved the post to my camera roll and promised myself it would be my first tattoo the day I turned 18 — an age that felt elusive when tomorrow felt like a lot to ask of myself.

The thing about being a teenager is that you really have no perspective.

Your life is dictated by a handful of adults you’re trusting on faith to get you through. But when those adults have consistently let you down? I found it hard to find other reasons to believe my future would really be all that bright.

I was free-falling into an abyss, and I could either embrace the fear of what awaited below or deny that my feet would ever stand on solid earth again.

I chose denial and built a home there. I even came to like being broken.

And slowly, not all at once, my trauma became the cornerstone of my identity.

I was cool for my purple hair and chronic resting bitch face.

I was intriguing to boys whose egos yearned to tame me.

I was a nuisance to my family. But hey, at least I had their attention.

for the version of you that wants to go deeper

2x monthly essays not available anywhere else

a space to talk, ask, and be seen

the full archive, from the very first word

65% off your first month