A bit about Amy.

I’m a corporate copywriter by day, a hobby writer/poet whenever I have leftover creative energy, and former interpreter with an underused English literature degree and a tendency to overshare.

In 2018 following the deaths of 5 loved ones in less than 3 years, deep grief had completely changed the way my feelings connected (or didn’t connect) with the rest of my body. I’d never been keen on crying in public—funerals, weddings, breakups in restaurants—name the place, I suppressed displaying emotion. This only intensified with grief. If feelings crept in, I stopped them before they reached my face. I didn’t know how to share I was miserable, so I started a blog. This blog, which I figured would serve as a virtual diary that nobody would read, soon became a tether between me and hundreds of strangers who have felt the same things but didn’t know how or where to relate to others.

As a writer and avid reader, I wholeheartedly subscribe to the concept of “bibliotherapy,” that literature is a lens to understand trauma. Words have the power to expand our worldviews and deepen our understanding of one another. And at the very least, words make us feel something.