Never in a million years would I have believed that at 19, I would self-publish a book.

I started writing because I had so many feelings, I didn’t know what to do with them. I wanted somewhere to put them to get them off my shoulders. I was in love with the idea that my words could carry the feelings and emotions that I didn’t want to feel anymore. In many ways, my writing became my healing.

Eventually, I had collected so many pieces in so many places, I didn’t know how to keep track of them. I decided to compile them into a book. A book for me and my eyes only. One copy, to keep on a shelf and never touch again. I picked the pieces, edited them, ordered them, and told my story the only way I knew how: with my words.

I remember getting my completed copy, starring at it with nothing but love. It held all the things I no longer could. It allowed me to move on. I put it on a shelf and let it fade away.

A few months later a beautiful friend of mine began to experience the same heartbreak. It was almost too painful to watch. There was very little I could do to help. I ordered another copy of my little book and it became the most personal gift I have ever given. When she told me how much it helped her, I realized perhaps it was something I should share.

Slowly, I began offering copies to those who needed it. Each time a friend got burned, a copy was ordered and offered to them. My words were helping people heal. And while it didn’t fix anyone, it did make them feel less broken. That became my ultimate goal.

Weeks later, a friend of mine finally convinced me to share my work online. That was the day killerqueenie was born. Each day I posted a new piece online and amazingly, it resonated with people. Books started selling copies all over the world, from India, South Africa, all the way to Egypt. The feedback has been amazing. I had no idea that the things I felt could help people feel more at home within themselves.

I never wrote for revenge, or attention, or “insta-fame” – whatever that may be. I write because sometimes feelings demand to be felt, even when we don’t want to feel them. I write because people need to know that while there are bad things in life, there are so many brighter days ahead. I write to help people understand they are not alone in their suffering, whatever that suffering may be.

I hope you can find some type of solace in my words. They have a built me a home that I have never been happier to live in. At the end of it all, words are the one thing that will always bring me back to myself, no matter how lost I get.

Sending my love,
Jess