I write so I can breathe. Living with a visible skin condition and navigating mental health struggles has shaped how I experience the world—and how I tell stories. My writing lives in the quiet, often unspoken spaces: shame, difference, healing, and the fragile hope of becoming. For a long time, I felt like someone I needed to apologize for. Writing became the place where I could finally be honest about that—the stares, the memories that linger, the weight of feeling “other,” and the slow, ongoing work of learning to see myself differently. I don’t write because I have everything figured out. I write because I’m still in it—still healing, still searching, still reaching for the light. Thank you for being here. —Maria