I am wearer of many hats.
Mom, Wife, Daughter, Sister.
For a long time, I’ve had a dream of being a writer. Having a blog and writing a book.
I am talking life-long dream. Since I was a kid dream. Writing stories and poems for friends. Stupid kid stories about dogs and teddy bears that I was going to publish. But I had imagination. Now I can’t even decide WHAT to write about.
I have taken classes about writing. My instructor told me, “You have potential. Though you have too many things going on right now, and it is sucking your energy out of you. That is why you are having trouble writing.”
I love to read. And I love to write. Though I don’t make time for either of them. I have too many things to do. I’m an obsessive house cleaner. Errand runner. Cell looker at-er. Admittedly.
When I do have time to write, I have intense anxiety. Plagued with “blank-page phobia”. I don’t know what I will write about. I suddenly grapple over which word would grab the readers attention. Which one would be prettier on the page. Then, I get distracted–
Don’t I have something to clean?
Then, I come back. Stare at the computer s’more. To the point of annoyance. Until I shut it down because nothing productive is happening here. Do the same thing the next day, if I have time.
I worry too much about what others will think about what I write. Will my family find my blog here. What will they think?
Now I am to the point so what if they do? This is how I feel. I can’t apologize for it.
It is time to do something for me, and this is me. I won’t apologize for being me. Take it or leave it, what you see is what you get. W.Y.S.I.W.Y.G.