I Write Myself Naked

I’m thirty-eight years old, and I’m sitting here in front of anyone reading this — completely exposed.

Little AJ Kay in the 4th Grade

I was working-class, low rent, salt of the earth stock. My people worked with their hands — got other people’s coffee.

I was dropped off and told to meet my mom back out front in an hour. I mean, it was a Saturday after all, and she had shit to do.

Most importantly, I have tirelessly shapeshifted my thoughts and feelings into Times New Roman, recounting and processing almost every significant life experience spanning my 38 years on this earth through my frenetic fingertips…and the click of those keys stood in for the beat of my heart on more than one occasion when I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep going.

I feel like a poor little kid up on stage being asked to read something she created from the purest part of herself, and submit it for judgment.

Self-portrait of AJ Kay taken at 3 a.m after writing this piece.

I write myself naked.

I will overuse ellipses and chalk it up to stylistic license. I will use “and”s instead of commas because I like the way they sound in my head.

People will tell me my writing is shitty. Unoriginal. Offensive. And I’m going to keep fucking writing, even when it means sitting naked in the shower for 45 minutes at 6 am, scared to look at my “views” because the only thing scarier than no one reading my words, is a shit ton of people reading my words.

I will do it because I’m a mother-fucking writer and I’m not going to let fear hold me back anymore.

Mama, writer, lover, fighter — I wear my heart on my sleeve because my pants pockets are too small. www.ajkaywriter.com

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