I have 2 tattoos, one of which got botched due to a recent surgery, so I’m looking to get a few new ones. To cover up the one on my right rib cage, I plan on getting a laurel wreath to represent my love for the rich history of the Roman Empire (most of it derives from my love of the movie Gladiator). In addition to that I’m getting a little cafécito cup with my mom to represent my abuela and her love for café con chisme. I also really BADLY want a minimalist Disney tattoo. (I am a bit of a Disney fiend).

I like organization because it soothes my OCD. Because I have OCD derived from other disorders, I physically cannot play with food because it makes me uncomfortable and uneasy.

As a writer, I experience many roadblocks that I tend to get overly upset about. For instance, writer’s block is something that plagues me every time I go to write. I always have an incredible idea but when it comes to writing it down and expanding on it, I freeze. I think it’s because I have a tendency to overthink things and strive for perfection. Nothing is perfect, and nothing will ever be perfect; there is always room for work and edits.

Something I really struggle with and that I’ve struggled with for a long time, is my stutter. It doesn’t always come out but when it does I freeze and wish I could backtrack and never speak again. Now this might seem completely unrelated to writing, but it has everything to do with my writing. I tend to overthink what I want to say and then when it comes to actually speaking, I freeze and begin to stutter and get frustrated with myself. It’s this overthinking that ruins my writing and allows my stutter to become a mental stutter as well.

Overcoming a stutter is really hard, especially when people tell you “you don’t have a stutter”. Just because I didn’t repeat what I just said about ten times doesn’t mean I don’t have a stutter. I have to think and repeat what I want to say mentally over and over again and even then what comes out isn’t what I wanted to say at all. My therapist has told me to not get frustrated with myself, none of us are perfect. This sense of perfection is what drives me WILD. I have to be a perfect writer, I have to be a perfect “thinker”, and I have to be a perfect “talker”. No I don’t. I think it’s time I embrace the stutter and just say whatever I want to say (within reason of course).

As a writer I hate staring at blank pages.

I like to think that I’m not that obsessive, maybe a little.

Maybe it has to do with men with blue eyes and dark hair who happen to be actors that play my favorite comic book heroes.

I’m not that obsessive, really I’m not.

Except when it comes to counting calories and sticking to minuscule serving sizes just so I can retain just a little bit of control of my life.

I think that I’m becoming obsessive, and I can’t help it.

It probably started when an old boyfriend told me that loving me was the hardest thing he’s had to do. I loved him for four years,

I’m obsessive, maybe to a fault.

Maybe I become obsessed with things because I’m so desperate to give my love.

I am an archer, piercing my arrow through the constellations

I am a woman, desperately trying to be a hero – my shield buried in the depths of my chest

I am a warrior defending my tribe, only I don’t know my tribe

I am not a fighter, though my knuckles may be scarred

I am not a lover, I do not know what a warm embrace feels like

I am a sister, dedicated and fierce to those who do not share my blood

I fall in love too quickly, though I have never been loved back

I crave dark hair and blue eyes, piercing the ice that litters the surface

I am a soldier, battling the coldest of winters with my fists at my side

I feel deeply, I care too much, I wonder off into the distance

I fear that I might wonder too far one day…and never return.