I began writing short stories around 2021, during the pandemic. I had nothing to do, and I have a lot of things I want to say.

It was around that time I began having a backlog of stories I haven’t posted because I was too scared of sharing it to the world.

Each story represents a piece of me. A vulnerable me. I don’t want to share it knowing I would get trashed and criticized, so I decided to never post.

I posted some here and there and, honestly, everyone liked it. Still, I was scared. What if those stories were only successful because I posted what I think were good ones?

If I were to post again, I don’t know what my tipping point will actually be for me to actually do it.

Sometimes, I wonder how my life would change if I just pressed Post.