I still write for the 4th-grade girl who ran home after school to hide in her room and pour her day into her journal. Maybe the kids had been mean. Maybe she wasn’t liked that day. But her teacher had rewarded her for getting straight A’s — and that was enough to keep the pen moving.

I still write for the high school girl who always felt like an outsider, but still showed up — in academics, in sports, in every place she could prove herself. She thought if she could be the perfect daughter and avoid the mistakes her eldest sister made, she would finally be accepted.

I still write for the girl who wants to accept hugs without feeling like stone. She’s getting there.

I still write for the girl in foster care who feels forgotten — not knowing there are people waiting to welcome her, love her, and be there for her. People who want to see her thrive, love, and take it one step at a time.

I still write for the girl in 2020 who couldn’t see past the darkness after the breakup. The one who felt emptied out and couldn’t get a grip on her soul.

I still write for the girl who lay in a hospital bed after a suicide attempt, waiting for someone — anyone — to listen.

I still write for the girl who rediscovered Jehovah on a deeply personal level and decided to let Him lead the way.

I write with urgency, because it is an honor to connect to our community through words that form stories.

I write because sometimes my voice feels safer on pages.

There’s something about being seen by myself and by God before the world ever lays eyes on me.
And I will always write for that.

from my writer’s corner,

Teish