Okay, well, if you really wanna know, the long-story short, here you go.

I was born in Denver, and I split my childhood between Colorado Springs, Colorado; Camarillo, California; and San Angelo, Texas. So why am I doing this?

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I don't know. I grew up enjoying jewelry... Entrepreneurs seem to all know that your passions are hidden in your childhood... I was obsessed with making those Loom rubber-band bracelets for the longest time... and that wasn't my first time in the rubber-band bracelet department. Remember Silly Bands? I lovedddd those when they came out. Albeit, I was late to the party because of the type of household I grew up in. I collected not by the number but by particularity. I only wanted the ones I deemed worthy. I didn't want just any old Silly Band. I loved the little animals and the glow-in-the-dark ones. Sadly, I lost too many down the shower drain.

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However, the thing that's captured my attention the longest in life is writing... No one really taught me to write. I've just been writing ever since I couldn't spell. I started my first journal at five. The words aren't words. You would notice, however, that my handwriting was more legible back then than it is now. I have always been introspective. I've always been asking myself questions about life. And for most of my childhood (if not all of it), I was extremely shy. I loved spending time alone. And I loved running through thought games with myself. And I loved writing my thoughts out. I loved making up stories. But most of all, I loved writing about the real stories I observed: the people, the places, and the questions I observed. Yes, I've written about you.

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My frustration was never with my ability to express myself with words. My frustration was always that I couldn't bring my visions to life. I believed very strongly that I was not artistic at all. In fact, much of my original inspiration comes from my sister. She is so talented in the art department. She was always drawing beautiful pieces and making beautiful things. I, by self-comparison, simply couldn't. I could not. There's nothing more to it. I. had. no. talent. I had visions, but I could never make these visions come to life. The only thing I was naturally good at was writing. My sister always encouraged me here (she's a good writer herself). She would always tell me, "You have that thing." That thing that couldn't be trained. "You just have it." It must be easier to see other people's talents from the outside. I didn't see myself as having anything at all other than a neurotic need and insatiable love to write.

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One of my least favorite subjects in school was English. I will say that is the only place I ever got praise in school. I always denied it. It felt stupid to be praised on such a stupid level for such stupid work that I wrote at a stupid time of night. English teachers seemed so stupid, so dense... They sucked the soul out of the very thing I loved, and I refused to partake in it. It angered me. I would spend English class journaling, writing lines and lines on my paper about how stupid this all was, and I would STILL get in trouble for not participating. I'm writing, for God's sake! Get a grip!? I never changed my ways and eventually realized that getting in trouble is fake. A type of "fear-mongering," one would say these days. But they'd always come back around with praise after grading one of my assignments. I'd greet this praise by muttering under my breath, "Stupid."

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Math, science, anything of that sort was great. They'd always call me stupid in those classes. I never quite got it, but I was always right there. I wasn't much of a natural at this. I wasn't unnatural either. But I'm not a rule follower, and math has a lot of rules to follow. There's less to be made up, at least in the fake math they teach in kid school. But at least I was being called stupid and didn't find the subject so stupid. The blue sky is actually purple; at least they told you intriguing "facts."

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I've never stopped writing. There have been many moments in my life where I've tried to sit down and write a book. Every time, I didn't quite have it. The patience? The ideas? No, I have both of those in abundance. I didn't know how to flow yet. I didn't trust myself yet. I didn't have the trust in my self. I was the owner of a lot of self-doubt. Why do we carry this doubt for so long?

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I didn't drop the self-doubt until... well, when was that? I needed to make money... and the need to make money was greater than my ability to doubt myself. There were pieces before that which gently shaved away my doubt. A boyfriend who believed in me. Friends who believed in me. I worked at a country club for a couple of years. During this time, I realized I did know how to talk to people and that my words were valuable to them. My lovers (my audience) named me before I ever named myself. At some point, you realize you aren't what you say you aren't. And you are what you say you are. And you just simply are exactly who you desire to be. But remove the desire. You are exactly who you are.

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But then you plague yourself with the question: why? Why am I? Why am I doing this? Well, honestly, I don't care why, for you or for me. And I don't know. And I sure as hell don't need to know. I don't need to not know either. I have this desire to create. And I want you to feel love. I want you to feel that you possess the answers to life's questions. I want you to see that at the bottom of every question, you will always find love again.

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