Okay. I am so, so sick of reading biographies that drone on and on about all the awards a person has won, and all of the articles that have been written about them, and all of the prestige they have, and all of the amazing events they’ve attended or spoken at, and all of the adoring fans they have.

It’s not because I’m jealous of them (though I’ll admit, I often am). Honestly, it’s because I go to an ‘about’ page to get the juicy, lip-smackin, drool-worthy deets. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT HOW AWESOME THEY ARE. I want validation that this person I’m e-stalking is, in some small and inimitable way, just like me. I want to relate.

So. Here we go.

I’m a teen mom (18 years old when I had my daughter). I used to write terrible fanfiction when I was in middle school (I swear I don’t anymore). I never wake up before eight in the morning. I eat instant noodles at least once a week. During vacations, I sometimes stay up until three in the morning binging manga and kdramas… :’)

I pretend I took this photo in Bali, but actually I asked my husband to take a bunch of pictures in the park right in front of his friend’s house. “Take more!”, I kept saying. “I have to pick the best one! The best one!”.

I think there’s a lot of unacknowledged beauty in being ordinary and commonplace, especially in a world that we’re always being told will only accept us if we’re special. To get boys to like us, we have to be special, and ‘different from other girls’. To get an agent to take chances on us, we have to be special, and ‘better than other writers’. To make friends, we have to be nice and friendly and special and ‘on’ all the time.

Constant competition is a pretty shitty way to live, don’t you think?

I fart, just like you.

I binge eat, just like you.

I cry for no reason, just like you.

I stay in bed for entire weekends, just like you.

I stare at my computer and think about deleting everything I’ve written, just like you.

Ultimately, the story I am here to tell is not altogether dissimilar from yours. You may even recognize certain facets of your own life in the words I smush together here. Why? Because deep within the heart of each human is a desperate, unspeakable need to know that they are not alone in this world.

I’m Ebi, and it’s very nice to meet you. I’m a writer, a mother, a bad shower singer, a tea drinker, a book buyer — and I am here to remind you that you are extraordinary and that I am grateful, because you are here and reading this and breathing.

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