A Letter to You, Sunshine

Dear Sunshine,

Two years ago on Valentine’s Day I started a post dedicated to you, but I never quite finished it. I don’t know if it’s because I couldn’t find the courage or the right timing, or if I simply wasn’t entirely confident in how I wanted to go about writing something so important to me—to perfectly embody all that you are.

And tonight it hit me: It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be from the heart. Everything you do shines from your heart.

So, here’s how the post began:

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We All Wake Up Depressed Some Days: Here’s What Inspired Me to Push Forward

“Sometimes the greatest picture a photographer takes is when he turns around and captures what’s behind him.”

A talented artist named Blue Fier—yes, that’s Blue as in the color, and Fier as in fire, and his name is just one of the many things that make him truly unforgettable—explained this to me last year, about two hours after he’d taken one of the most stunning photos I’d ever seen of Pier 5 in the San Francisco Bay.

The wood panels lined up horizontally, perfectly in place as the fog caused the streetlights to take on star-like figures with a sheet of royal blue providing an immaculate backdrop. To be honest, it’s something we’ve probably ogled over before (no offense, Blue), and yet it still managed to catch me off guard, taking my breath away for a split second as I fell onto that path of illuminated blues and golds.

Then I realized: It wasn’t just the photo. It was the story behind it.

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I Was Afraid of Your Judgment and That’s Why I Didn’t Write for 6 Months

 

It’s been six months since I sat down and found the courage to write what’s really been going on in my life.

It’s certainly not because I didn’t have anything to write about, and it’s absolutely not because I lost my passion for writing. In fact, I’ve had to feed my appetite for blogging by posting little thoughts and poems on my Instagram account when I just couldn’t bring myself to put it all out there.

The truth is, I was afraid.

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The Art of…Being Alone

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It’s so intriguing how the universe works to paint the picture of our lives.

Today marks a Leap Year, which only happens every four years. Looking at my canvas last Leap Year, in 2012, my portrait includes me, happily in love with my ex-boyfriend, having just begun dating a few weeks prior (on Valentine’s Day, in case you don’t recall). If I had to guess, that picture was filled with pinks and yellows and bright colors of love and happiness and new beginnings.

Come Leap Year 2016 and my painting has changed tones: my canvas has faded, perhaps from spending too much time resting comfortably in the sun, taking on new shades of color and leaving space for touching up—or perhaps, for a whole new picture overall.

Let me explain.

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