Writing assuages my insomnia when sleeping pills fail. Sitting down to write allows the tears and words to flow when I’m processing heartbreak. Dancing with my words elevate me when I am at the zenith of new love. My words bleeding on paper is what has stopped me from making my wrists bleed out in a bathtub. Writing has been my closest confidante, an unapologetic truth teller, and the one thing I could trust above any other coping mechanism. Realizing this is something that sustains me, and encourages me to thrive, this why I will not allow anything or anyone stop me from walking towards my true north.