In order to write about life, first you must live it. ~ Ernest Hemingway
Most kids longed for recess—the chance to escape the classroom and run amok on the playground. They unleashed energy through boisterous play, slamming balls against a concrete wall.
I wasn’t that kid.
Instead I walked to the far corner of the field—indeed the farthest point where the fence touched civilization—and I would daydream. There I sat with pen and paper in hand, falling victim to the forces of imagination.
I believe dreams burrow into our souls and they nestle there for good. We can choose to fixate on them or we can choose to ignore them, but we can never truly forget them.
As an only child I chose to fixate—and what resulted was a promising storyboard that’s shaped my life’s journey.
The loner turned into a teenage journalist, and pretty soon I recorded interviews with friends and family. “Tell me about yourself. How did you get here?” “How do you feel?” “What are you thinking?”
Despite indicators that I was more of a nuisance than a rising Ann Curry, I couldn’t stop. I had to keep probing, had to keep writing. I cut out photos and created homemade newspapers bound by rubber bands. I rose to Editor-in-Chief of my high school newspaper and ran my own column entitled “Julia’s Musings.” These were all things I did with joy, never thinking of it as work. I felt this was my calling, but lacked the confidence to believe I could really do this.
In college, I tried on different identities. The rebellious 20-something decided to live for me (instead of others) and ran to Boston to get my Master’s degree in English. It was there that I fell in love with yoga; it was there that I began to heal.
Therapists and teachers helped me confront my wounds. I felt like a muddled mess with two immigrant parents, now divorced, and a legacy of bad decision-making that left me in debt and with a trail of unsavory relationships. I wanted to struggle alone (because that’s what I knew and that’s what felt comfortable).
I felt the passionate love of parents who wanted everything for me and the passionate pressure to make everyone happy.
That sensitivity chip—the one that’s hyperaware of people’s feelings—takes years to develop. It’s a tool that can erode your independence, nudging you to behave in ways that please other people. But it’s also a remarkable tool for writing.
Writers pay attention. They observe, analyze, and integrate fragments into a cohesive narrative. Good writers string words into a garland of meaning; they make art out of the human experience.
That’s the art of storytelling. That’s what I do.
I’m a writer, yogi, and content strategist based out of Boston, MA. I serve as Co-Founder and Editor-in-Chief of Creative Women’s Lounge, an online community designed to awaken the inner entrepreneur and creative self that’s universal to all—and to attract women at the cusp of their next big step.
I carry over 10 years of communications experience from institutions like Harvard University, UC Santa Barbara, and Better World International. Utilizing my version of intrapreneurism, I’ve enjoyed building positions from the ground-up. I’ve worked hard to motivate team members—all from a passion-packed, mission-oriented vantage.
In my spare time, I love to cook, travel, and drink good wine and coffee.