In my younger years I wrote. I feel like I’d only just begun to exercise that passion when life expected me to become, and I let it. A college student, career woman, wife, mother, small business owner, friend, neighbor. And on. For years I didn’t pick up a pen. I was too busy becoming what I thought I should become, in the ways others expected. My heart was overflowing – it was breathing and I wasn’t listening.
I finally began the process of unbecoming, of shedding the layers of expectation. Of getting lost so I could be found, of asking the right questions so I could find comfort in the being lost. Of just being me. I began to listen to my heart, and I picked up my pen.
I am on a journey of self discovery. One of listening to me. One of acceptance. One of love.