an invitation to exist

why I'm writing this

under my bed, there’s a box tucked away, filled with birthday cards, essays, love letters, photos — ephemera I’ve collected through the years and can’t bring myself to throw away.

when I thought about why I wanted to start this substack, I kept coming back to the idea of that box. something just as sentimental and alive; a place to keep what I don’t want to lose.

but also, a way to take ownership.

not in the sense of other people’s attention or even of the work itself, but ownership as permission… to exist. to be seen. to belong. to be known on my own terms.

there is something about documenting in public that feels necessary to me right now — like proof I was here; that I lived, I noticed, I created — in a space that is wholly mine. a space where I can log and curate my observations, free from the projections that come with my vocation.

it’s called held together with tape because that’s what most of my creative process feels like: a little precarious, a bit patched. the name is also a reminder that being “put together” isn’t the goal.

held is enough <3

if you’re here, thank you. I hope something in this finds you where you are — or helps you get where you’re going. I’m trying to get there, too.