I don’t even know how to begin.

The Gallery of Me is less than a month away from turning 12 years old, and in these 12 years, I have now racked up 1000 entries. Woah.

The gallery was born out of love. I was 18 and in its throes embrace. Love continues to fuel it, often alongside sadness and sometimes even anger. Rarely joy. And on occasion fiction. I never imagined it would still exist after so long, or that there would ever be this many entries. It’s definitely changed a lot over the years, because so have I. It continues to be an invaluable outlet for everything in my heart and at this point, I doubt it will ever not be a part of me.

For all intents and purposes, The Gallery of Me is a reflection of myself across time. Across my late teens and my entire adulthood. It is who I am, it is what I think, what I feel, what I fear, what I lust for. It is, truly, a gallery of me.