10 Things You Don’t Know About Me
When I read Sara Burdick’s stories, I’m lifted out of my seat and invited into a world of adventure, self-discovery, and celebration. Sara inspires me to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Recently, she shared a story in response to the prompt 10 things you don’t know about me. I adore the way she shares a little more about herself in every post, always nudging her readers to consider different perspectives on a variety of topics.
Every time I read her stories, I learn something new. I aspire to be a writer who combines vulnerability and mystery. Always leaving room for more. Always sharing enough to make readers feel seen and understood. That’s what Sara’s writing offers me- relatability and inspiration.
I love keeping secrets. I collect them in the jewelry box that is my mind, most of them will never be disclosed. They’re precious. I reach in and tinker with them sometimes, for my own amusement.
I smile to myself when I rummage through my memories. They’re a light and necessary escape on the darkest of days. In a world where so much can be stolen, secrets are impenetrable and sacred.
I’d love to share a few of those secrets with you.
I’m never going to write a memoir.
I love telling my story in snippets, bite-sized realizations that are just transparent enough to land and stick. Memoirs require a writer to all but bleed on the page. I don’t want to offer up my soul in that way. As I said, I love secrets. Memoirs leave no room for stories untold. They make history when they’re juicy, scandalous, revolutionary, terrifying. I don’t want to fall open like that- I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to glue myself back together.
I really want to write fiction.
I’ve been writing for most of my life but I’ve never developed characters. I don’t even know where to start. When I read good fiction, I get lost in every scene. I fall in love with characters I’ll never meet. I get emotionally invested, wishing I could save characters who make self-sabotaging decisions. It’s sensational. I hope I’ll find the courage, the creativity, to give life to my wildest storylines.
I got stung by coral in the Indian Ocean while diving drunk.
I’m not adding context to this confession. Use your imagination.
I got stranded on a tiny island near San Juan.
When I’m in the islands I’m as free as a little bird, finally home after a long migration. While in San Juan, I hopped on a boat with some friends to tour other islands. The captain reminded us the tour ended at 6pm and he’d head back to the city with or without us. We spent the day on a secluded beach, glittered with pink sand and gorgeous people. Got “distracted” by the locals and forgot about time and logistics. Around sunset (8pm) a friend screamed, “the boat is gone!” Our new friends hosted us, fed us, and kept us warm until sunrise. We found our way back to the states eventually.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to be Whitney Houston.
I used to sing, at the top of my lungs, with so much pride and devotion. Thought I’d be on stage wow-ing crowds around the world. But when I was nine, a little girl who was in the children’s choir with me whispered, “you can’t sing!” after I finished my solo. (She was right).
My favorite color is black.
I pretended to love pink when I was a little girl because I thought girls had to wear and appreciate pink. But black is the most perfect, indestructible color. It’s gorgeous. It’s infinite. It evades imperfection and absorbs everything around it. Black is beautiful.
I only eat jelly with peanut butter. Jelly -on its own- is aimless and insecure. I don’t trust the way jelly slides around on bread, refusing to be still unless it’s clinging to peanut butter. It’s codependent.
I am terrified of the dark.
I don’t like to leave my home after sunset. It’s been a thing ever since childhood. When the sun sets, I feel uneasy. I turn as many lights on as possible. I still sleep with a nightlight. My electricity bill is outrageous.
I read tarot.
When I was a child, my family considered everything outside of attending church 3x a week “dangerous witchcraft”. Holistic medicine, meditation, Eastern practices, and therapy weren’t introduced until my 20s. Being open-minded and a lifelong learner is changing my life. Astrology and tarot are illuminating.
I want to be a horticulturist.
Growing food is so satisfying. I talk to and name all of my plants. Being surrounded by crops -gathering enough food to sustain my family- is the dream. What I lack in patience, I hope to supplement with passion. Food grows so slowly. It’s agonizing. Gardening is teaching me to trust the process. All I can do is sow seeds and water them. The rest happens without intervention.
Let’s trade secrets. Feel free to share some of your own stories in the comments. If you write a post in response to the prompt, let me know! I’d love to read it.