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on the power of showing up

note: I wrote this post in April of 2019 (pre-COVID). It's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, but I think it's time for it to see the light of day. It's been helpful for me to reread over the past few months, especially as I continue to try to make an effort to write, and I hope it can be helpful to you, too. i got an invite to a writers' group a few months ago, and i had never felt like more of a fraud in my life. it had been months, if not years, since i'd felt like a writer. the proverbial well of words in my heart had dried up, it seemed, and i wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. i agreed to go out of a sense of helplessness—i'd identified as a writer ever since i could remember. if i'm not a writer, who am i?  i told myself that it was important to show up and act like a writer even when i didn't feel like one, because even though i hadn't been writing, i reassured myself, i still was a writer. but sometimes the words f

A Tale of Toenails

(This story took place yesterday, July 18th, 2011, around 6 p.m. It is absolutely, painfully true. It's also a painful memory to recall, and I winced several times while writing this post.)

I pick up my plate and head into the kitchen after a yummy meal cooked by none other than my mother. My brother and my mom respectively are both in the kitchen. That's when disaster happens.

I don't know how it happens, but somehow I trip over my brother's foot. As it happens, I snag my fourth toenail on the top of his foot. This toenail has never grown in right and always sticks out awkwardly, so it's no surprise that I whacked it on something - again. I've done it many times before.

It hurts more than usual, but I don't really notice. I mean, I hit my brother's foot really hard, so why shouldn't it hurt? I return to my duties in the kitchen. 

"Who's bleeding?" My mom gasps and points to the tile below my feet.

There is blood on the floor.

Realization hits me. So that's why my foot hurts worse than usual!

My fourth toe is covered in blood. Why? I don't know, only that my brother must have a really hard foot. 

Long story short, we wrapped my foot in a rag, then went in to show it to my dad. After a long deliberation, we decided that yes, the toenail was coming off, and yes, we needed to get it taken care of, and no, I did not want to do it at home by ourselves. So we headed off to urgent care. That ended up being an adventure in and of itself...

Stay tuned for part 2.


  1. Oh, ow! I literally said, "Oh, ew!" loud... but seriously, OUCH! I'm always wacking my toes on things, but thankfully haven't lost a nail!

  2. WOW! I hate it when that happens. Because I dance, weird foot things are happening a lot, but they usually aren't blood related. Ugh, how painful.


  3. Oh my goodness! Ouch!! I hope that your toenail feels better. I hate nail-related injuries; they're so painful! Hope you feel better.



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