Truthfully? I’ve always been a writer.

Long before this book, there were blogs, journals, half-finished manuscripts, and even some ghostwriting for other authors and publishers. Writing has never been new to me. Sometimes my writing was public, sometimes behind the scenes, sometimes just me and a good journal trying to figure life out.

And I’ll be honest… I’ve always been a sucker for a dope journal! If it has a good hardback, all I need is an extra fine point pen, and I’m halfway healed! :)

But losing so much of my vision in such a short amount of time shifted everything.

This season has brought isolation, shock, grief, and a lot of unanswered questions I am still not prepared for. My therapist encouraged me to start writing again as a way to process everything I was feeling. That’s when the Angry, Black, and Blind blog. A few months later, a prophetic voice spoke into my life in an incredible way and simply said: write.

Between therapy wisdom and divine confirmation, I reckoned I probably shouldn’t ignore that. They sparked a fire in me - almost like they saw something I couldn’t yet see. So I wrote. I blogged. And then… I wrote and published the first volume of Diary of an Angry, Black, and Blind - the book!

Writing became how I released emotions, made sense of change, wrestled with faith, and stayed grounded when life felt uncertain. Sometimes it felt like prayer. Sometimes it felt like therapy. Sometimes it was just survival. And it was (and still is) always honesty.

The book grew out of that place. I have been in the valley - for real, y’all! It has been really dark. My honesty isn’t performance nor perfection. It is my truth.

I don’t write because everything is figured out.
I write because truth needs somewhere to live.
I can write it better than I can say it out loud. The words are clearer and while sometimes heavy, my healing depended on it. Writing has been my lifeline in this unwelcome season of change.
Healing needs language.
Faith deserves honesty.
And legacy deserves record.

My writing didn’t start with blindness.
Blindness just made it unavoidable.

If my words help just one person feel seen, encouraged, or brave enough to tell their own story… then every page has already done its job and my obedience wasn’t for naught.

This isn’t just creativity for me. It’s calling. It’s processing. It’s testimony. And yes - it’s still me with a good hardback journal and extra fine point pen, (and now, accessibility tools), figuring things out one honest page at a time.