by Carrie Maya
For the month of August, my goal was to figure out who I am separate from being a poet. I drew most of my identity from it. And it became incredibly toxic for me as a person because all I did was live, breathe, feel writing and performing poetry. I guess, in a lot of ways, writing became a lifeline for me. But as other areas of my life began to cry out for attention, it became more of a ball and chain. I used it as a smoke screen so that I wouldn’t have to face the ways I actually had no idea about who I was.
As scary as the thought of it was, I knew I had to do something or I’d go insane.So I took a beautiful box I was given for my birthday and dubbed it my Identity Box. The whole concept…
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