The Poem That Found Me

Do you remember the first poem—or song—you heard that made you fall in love with the art form? I do. In fact, I can still recite parts of it by heart. It’s called Desiderata by Max Ehrmann, written in 1927 (https://youtu.be/CaVaF6TkSUU) . I must’ve been in middle school, likely in the middle of some adolescent crisis—probably something to do with the pressures of fitting in and feeling like an awkward teen. When I first read Desiderata, it felt like Ehrmann was speaking directly to me. His words were exactly what I needed at that time: a reminder to be present, to find peace in the moment, and to hold steady as I tried to navigate a confusing and often overwhelming world.

That moment changed me. I started putting my own words to paper. I journaled until my heart felt lighter. I wrote about everything and nothing—every dark thought, every hope, every secret found a home in my journals. Anyone brave enough to look would find my whole story tucked between those pages. I’ve been journaling and writing for over 35 years now. But for the longest time, I never shared it. It was mine—my personal story, my secret self. I’ve always been the type to keep personal things close, choosing to navigate life’s harder parts quietly and alone. (Yes, I know... not exactly model behavior for a therapist.)

But over time, something began to shift. I started to find comfort in sharing my story—my hurts, my triumphs, my inner thoughts. And poetry became the way I gave those thoughts a voice. Writing has helped me make sense of my past, see how far I’ve come, and recognize the emotional patterns that still need healing. Through poetry, I’ve found a deeper way to process my journey. And slowly, I’ve started to share that journey in public spaces.

Every time I say, “I’m not a poet,” I catch myself. Because the truth is—I am. We all are, in our own way. In poetry, there is no right or wrong. There is only your truth, told through your eyes, shaped by your experiences. And even if you never write a single word, I encourage you to read. Read poetry, read lyrics, read anything that speaks to your soul. Because someone out there has captured what you’re feeling—exactly—and can say it when you can’t find the words.

So go out there: read. Or write. Let yourself connect with something bigger. The world is waiting to hear your story. And in case you're wondering how to start, here’s a piece of mine:

Is this the end, where the roads transcend to different outcomes.

If I turn to the right… does that mean my life goes right. Prayers answered.

If I go left, does that mean I’m left… behind.

The end isn’t always the end and in the end… we begin.