Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind
In all this world leave all behind
In faintest whispers the promise speaks
To haunt the mind when the heart is weak

Where love and loss collide and crash
And aching torment forever dashed
Against desperate cries in the broken soul
No respite found the longing grows

A slate wiped clean no more to hear
In constant dreams to shed that fear
In sight of tears cascading free
The reminder gone no more to see

Erase the thoughts to free the soul
The ties that bind the sadness whole
In all this world leave all behind
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind

I don’t have to be anyone but myself.
This year, I am reassessing my goals and balancing ambition with rest.
I will look into the mirror, meet my own eyes with grace, and declare, “I am enough.”
In 2025, I will walk boldly, my hands open to possibility, spreading seeds of love wherever I’m planted.
Friendships will bloom like wildflowers, beautiful and unexpected.
I will chase justice with steady feet.
Though I am among many, I will be a beacon, a lighthouse in a storm, lighting the way for others to feel seen, to feel safe.
I will live fearlessly, propelling forward with purpose, even when the ground shifts beneath me, even when I am unsure of my next step.
I will change my mindset, shifting from fear to freedom.
I will choose myself as an act of healing, a soft rebellion against the urge to shrink.
This year, I will be safe and comfortable in my own company, without judgment, without apology.
At the end of every day, I will ask only, “Do I approve of me?”
2025 will not be perfect, but it will be rooted, honest, abundant.
This year, I am becoming my favorite self—whole, fearless, healed—a life in bloom, rooted in acceptance.

Make reservations for a weeknight,
at the new restaurant in the next town over,
where they serve drinks in silly plastic bath tubs
with rubber ducks floating on curaçao-blue bath water
and the smoke from searing cuts of steak
perfumes the couples in corner booths:
L’eau de garlic.

Call in sick when the sun rises,
and I’ve not gone to bed,
kept awake through the witching hours by
the tale of a land where there are still dragons
and a knight who falls for the lady
with a skilled sword hand and
a sharp tongue.

Turn off my cell phone and
spend twenty unmoving minutes
in front a pond that Monet painted
until my eye lose focus
and the light tricks them into seeing
ripples move around the waterlilies.

Lay on the rocks that line the water’s edge
where the sound of the waves rises and falls
like breathing,
while the sun warms my back
as if I were a lounging lizard,
rather than a woman
with responsibilities.

Why does every new year
come with the pressure
to reinvent myself
through resolutions?

What if my only goal this year
is to be authentically me?
Or what if it is to laugh
until my sides hurt?
Or to stop and notice
the little things that bring joy?

What if I don’t become
someone else this year
and just enjoy the beauty
of all that I already am?
What if I don’t give in
to the pressure?

Adulting
Last year was here to support me,
This year is here to let me go.
Last year came with unimaginable pain,
This year approaches me with surprises and rewards.
Between I want to stay, but I know I better leave.
‘You’re a quarter, 25!’ they say, but forgotten by twenty-six.
‘As this year goes by its going to be exciting!’ but nothing is ever going to be the same.
Nobody said mourning the past was going to feel so weird, but
eager for what’s to come this year.
100% done on the original goal I’ve had for years.
Graduating in May,
Becoming an aunty by August,
Having the honor to say, ‘I got accepted to universities!’ and wondering which one I’ll choose.
Slowly maturing and leaving the nest.
Adulting before my very own eyes.
Perhaps a bottle of Wine & Moscato instead of Tequila this year.

In the dawn of a new year’s light,
I set my sights, my heart takes flight.
With resolutions bright and bold,
Three goals unfold, like stories told.

First, to shed the weight I bear,
To dance with ease, to breathe fresh air.
A journey paved with low-cal meals,
And every step, the joy reveals.

Next, a book where laughter flows,
A collection of columns, where humor grows.
Each word a spark, each line a cheer,
Sharing my wit, bringing joy near.

Last, a moment for prayer each day,
In quietude, I’ll find my way.
To nurture the soul, in peace I’ll dwell,
In gratitude, my heart will swell.

So here’s to goals, both big and small,
To rise with purpose, to heed the call.
With laughter, health, and faith in view,
This new year’s promise, I’ll see it through.

my fear of you is healthy, keeps me sharp
and on alert— a safety net crocheted
by love, not purled with ego’s tattered tarps.

Stay.

I shall not wish this faithful fear away.

Its selfless patterns form organic art,
each line, each curve depicting chances weighed—
a fleeting thrill, or pieces of my heart
protected by the risks I do not take.

For them, I’d bleach my neon yarnscape soul.

The Machu Picchu steps I need not see,
nor paradisal nuclear atolls—
for if adventure wove my earthly leave,
who’d treble stitch my family’s gaping holes
to safeguard from the frostbite of their grief?

Style Score: 100%

This year, I solemnly swear
I will be up to no good
I will not hold a strong resolve
Only in a week, to watch it dissolve
I will not aim to be better
That’s merely a dream that will shatter
I will not promise
To dole out advice that sounds oh-so-wise
I will not always be put-together
Pieces of me will break and scatter

And since resolutions are meant to be broken
I will break all of the above ‘nots’
That will crumble the graham cracker wall that stands tall
Holding layers of soft cream within
Wait, sorry for the interruption, but what is that low rumble I hear?
Hmm, maybe that’s a sign..

This year I resolve
That I shall most definitely solve
That problem of knots
That enigma of ‘nots’
To discard all that I am not
So I may recognize all that I am.

And to begin, I need to contemplate
On softened, creamy, layered, graham cracker crust

And with this noble goal in mind,
This year, I resolve
That I most definitely shall meditate
Over a whole lot of cheesecake.

My fear began the moment I uttered the words that I’m pregnant.
My life was always filled with instability but when you were involved, it was stable.
My pregnancies were never good so I didn’t expect this one to be any different however, you were always my hero.
You see I went through them all by myself without any support.
But you were my best friend who guided me and held me up through my toughest moments,
So I didn’t expect you to be like them and leave me wandering lost and confused.
When our bond started to break then I started questioning my self worth.
I also started questioning if I was failing you as your lady.
A home isn’t always four walls.
A home can sometimes be two eyes and a heartbeat.
You were my home and knowing that I had part of you growing inside of me and you pulling yourself away from me,
I started to feel broken and homeless.
Time has passed and I just want it all back.
Things aren’t as easy but they are better.
You still give me butterflies and your kisses at the end of the day are the best.
Our daughter is so attached to you and our kids want this to work because they were the happiest when we were all a family.
But I’m in fear of being abandoned again as we are working on our relationship.
I love you so much and have loved you since we were kids.
That won’t ever change.
The love will continue to grow just like my fear will.

In the year of 25
I want to live, I want to thrive
I want to do things I have never done
Live my life and have some fun
Swim in an ocean, climb a mountain that’s high
Jump from an airplane, make friends with the sky
Learn how to draw, get involved in the arts
A cooking class in France learning how to make tarts
Take a road trip with no plan of where
Play a few board games
Cut off my hair
Maybe fly an airplane in the big open sky
Watch a sad movie and try not to cry
Go to New York City where anything goes
Hide a dark secret that nobody knows
Continue being kind and continue having grace
Maybe go to the moon, maybe live in space
Perhaps write that book Ive always wanted to write
Maybe drive a train maybe fly a kite
Wish on a shooting star as it tumbles through the sky
Travel to the desert and watch the world go by
If my list seems impractical well, actually that’s true
Maybe paint a rainbow with just the color blue
All these things I thought of I created in my head
I think the rainbow would look better just painted all in red
So in the year of 25 I’m going to live and not just survive
I’m going to grow and I’m going to change
I may do things that are a little strange
But I’m going to be me and I’m going to smile
Because being yourself is always in style
Anything is possible when the year is new
The only thing in your way is ultimately you

Hello, my old friend,
It’s me. You know me well, don’t you? After all, you’ve been living within me, feeding on my doubts and hiding in the deepest shadows of my thoughts. I’ve denied your existence for too long, and I’ve given you far too much. You’ve crept into every corner of my life, turning my sleep into restless battles. You appear in my nightmares as a shadowy figure, granting me permission to live in your world while you claim ownership of everything—my home, my children, myself. Am I supposed to feel grateful for this?
You’ve made yourself quite comfortable in my world, dictating what I own, where I stay, what I say, and even how I dream. When I wake, the reality of your presence hits me like an icy wave, drowning me with the weight of your power. And yet, here I am, trying once again to pull my head out of water and to put into words the grip you have on me. We’ve done this dance before, haven’t we? You push my head down too far this time, and I refuse to relent.
Let me make this clear: you’re a pest. You’re the shapeless monster that chased me in childhood dreams, the one that kept my feet weighed down with leaded concrete as I tried to run. You’re the unseen force that breaks my heart and spins my mind in circles. But what are you, really? Are you a shadowy stranger pushing me toward growth, or just a figment of my mind, feeding on my uncertainties?
I’ve spent too long trying to define you, to understand why you scare me so. Is it because you’re imperceptible, living just beyond my view? Or is it because confronting you means risking everything? Perhaps it’s time I stop trying to define you and start challenging you instead. Let me start again.
Hello, Fear.
It’s me again, challenging you. You’ve become a basilisk in my life—a predator slithering through the shadows of my subconscious. Your gaze petrifies me, as though my every step might shatter into ruin beneath your weight. I’ve tried to avoid you, to pretend you’re not there, hoping that ignorance might weaken you. But you’re cunning, aren’t you? You thrive in the corners of my denial, growing stronger with every moment I refuse to look directly at you.
You’ve made yourself at home in my life, coiled around my dreams and my days, squeezing the air from my ambitions. I am left in the cold void, your presence a weight I carry long after the terror fades.
But I see you now for what you are. You’re not invincible. A creature of the earth, bound by the same rules that govern everything else. You move silently, planting your roots, spreading your poison like ivy through the cracks of my foundation. You’ve sown seeds of doubt in my mind, daring me to leave them unchecked, daring me to let your vines grow until they strangle everything I’ve worked so hard to build.
Yet I know your secret, Basilisk. Your power isn’t in your form—it’s in the fear you inspire. If I can stand before you and meet your gaze, I can shatter the illusion of your strength.
I’ve faced you before, and though you’ve taken much from me, you’ve never won. I remember the woman I was at twenty-five, with two small children and a heart full of determination. I walked out of your lair then, leaving behind everything you held over me. I stepped into a small apartment that was mine, utterly mine, free of your coils for the first time. It was terrifying. I lost so much. Yet, in that moment, I found something you could never possess love.
I met your gaze, and though the weight of your presence lingered, I proved to myself that I could survive.
So why should I let you win now? Why should I let you coil tighter around me when I’ve already broken free of you once? You may have taken advantage of my complacency over the years, but that brave girl I was hasn’t vanished. She’s still within me, waiting for me to listen. She will take my hand and say, “We’ve got this. We’ll do better for them.” She’ll point to my children, reminding me of the strength I drew from them the last time I faced you.
This is my promise: I will no longer let you hide in the shadows. I will pull you into the light. I will confront you, strip you of the power you’ve claimed, and show you that you are nothing without me—you will vanish.
I’ll keep moving, not because I’m fearless, but because I refuse to let you win.
Farewell, Fear,
Me

Style Score 100%

‘Tis the Year of Dreams
Dreams that we thought we cannot reach
From far beyond
We shall flee to Hawaii
Where carefree is not a fee
‘Tis the year of Dreams
We shall conjure and Conquer
Architecture in a Degree
‘Tis the year of dreams
Where we shall as seekers and dreamers
Spread the dreams of thee
On reams
‘Tis the year of the Dreamers

Dear Anxiety,

You have made me feel scared for the last time. You have made me feel like I was incapable to achieve my goals and live out my dreams. You have made me feel as if no one around cared about me. Anxiety, you have sent me down paths I have not even gone yet. Taken me places I may never go. My imagination is reality with you around. I can no longer live in my head. I can no longer think what if. I can no longer have you resting in my soul. Anxiety, it’s time for you to go.

I am writing to you not with anger or frustration, but with acknowledgment. You have been a companion in my journey, showing up in moments of uncertainty, and self-doubt, and when I’ve faced challenges that seemed insurmountable. Your presence has often been heavy, and your whispers have sometimes convinced me that I wasn’t capable or strong enough to push forward.

You appear when I face new obstacles, such as applying for scholarships, presenting my research, or when I think about my future in medicine and the impact I want to make. You remind me of the risks, the potential for failure, and the weight of my dreams.

But here’s the truth: I have learned not to fear you. I have confronted you, understood your shape and form, and started to understand that you are just a shadow of uncertainty. You don’t define me. You don’t determine my success.

I have chosen to face you head-on. When you show up, I take a deep breath and remind myself of the countless times I’ve succeeded despite the self-doubt you tried to plant. I am reminded of the work I’ve done in my community and the lives I’ve touched in underserved areas. I am reminded of the research I’ve contributed to, and the learning and growth I continue to experience in medical school. My passion to serve, to create equity in healthcare, and to make a difference in the world is far stronger than your whispers.

You might try to make me doubt my abilities, but you won’t win. I have a community of mentors, colleagues, and friends who remind me of my purpose and encourage me to push through the tough moments. I have a resilience that comes from years of facing adversity and turning it into strength.

So, fear, you won’t win. I will not let you stop me from pursuing my dreams and overcoming every challenge that comes my way. You may continue to visit, but you will never have control over my future.

With courage and strength,

I have seven goals for 2025. 

First, I aim to graduate soon and earn my creative writing degree. Second, I want to finish my book titled “The End Begins Now” and self-publish it. My third goal, which might seem a bit crazy but is also exciting, is to obtain my motorcycle (M1) license and get myself a Harley-Davidson, since I’m really passionate about motorcycles. 

For my fourth goal, I hope to move in with my partner. I envision our place being as spacious as possible, filled with sunlight, and having a balcony where I can plant my favorite flowers and enjoy nature’s beauty. 

My fifth goal for the year is to secure a well-paying job that provides enough stability for me to achieve everything I want and need. Sixth, I watoain healthy relationships with my partner and friends, as I’ve experienced the challenges of dishonesty and a lack of loyalty in past relationships, especially with friends I once considered like sisters.

Finally, my last goal is to maintain my peace and showcase the best version of myself—not just a version that others expect. I believe that in this world, it’s crucial to present your true, authentic self in order to succeed and make a name for yourself. I want to achieve this through my writing, helping others who are afraid to express their true selves. I aspire to be someone others can relate to, where they won’t feel judged. 

These are my goals for 2025, and I hope to succeed in achieving them.

To my fear of being swallowed,
I am writing this in regards to the incessant urge I feel to be swallowed whole by you. So cliche right? To disappear into you, limb by limb, hidden beneath your skin so that I can rest and feel peaceful again. I’d climb into your mouth one night, hoisted up on the edge of your lips by rope and hook. I’d peel back your lower lip like I often do when we kiss using my thumb, but this time I’d need both hands and I’d struggle because of my shrunken size. It would be difficult yes, but it would be worth it once I entered your cavernous mouth; so soft and warm. I’d bounce on your tongue for a bit and then slide gleefully down your throat tickling you with my finger tips on the way down, causing you to cough and stir but not waken. Passing through the thumping of your heart would speed by me as I fell, getting louder and louder until it shook my entire body, and then softer and softer as I fell further away from it. I’d be welcomed by your stomach with a splash into the warm acidic waters which are at your core. You hardly eat so I’d be mostly alone there. Here I would reflect on my choice while clinging to a piece of bread not yet fully digested. Hiding away inside of you, disappearing into you. Was it a good choice? I wouldn’t be sure, but I’d take solace in the fact that I couldn’t change my mind now. First my feet would feel numb and tingle, slowly dissipating into the rippling calm waters. Then my calves and thighs, and you would start to feel nourished and full and not know why. My pelvis and torso would then fade away, head last, and I would fully disappear knowing I would be absorbed and travel all around you again before leaving. Would I be good for your body? Would you keep me around? And would you love me then? Would I feel safe and protected? Because I feel this urge to be swallowed whole by you, and I don’t know what to do.