It’s Saturday morning 2 days into the New Year. The children are happily occupied, and I had one of those moments where I found myself wandering around, compulsively checking my phone and Facebook, and generally not knowing to do with my time, my mind or my body and feeling, as usual, anxious about it.
I clued in that this is the perfect moment to center myself and do some writing. Writing has never been a habit of mine, and I’ve inflicted a lot of pain and let it cause drama in my mind, in my performance, in my relationships and in my results. In high school, I was in AP English and ended up in a remedial class in college, because I choked so hard on the written portion of the entrance exam for the University of California, Davis. I stacked the odds against myself before I even started by believing I was a terrible writer.
“I’m starting from a place of honor, grace and respect.”
My relationship with my writing has long been a tumultuous one, and as of late, I am determined to create new stories. I am inspired to look deeply at my past and all of the stories and beliefs I’ve carried forward that still cause me pain.
I take each story and ask myself:
-Do I like this story?
-Do I want to keep believing this story?
-Am I open to a new story?
I am open to and wanting a new relationship with writing. My old relationship was nothing but pain and drama and crappy results. So, slowly over the past year, I have started writing just for me. I don’t have a strict routine, and I don’t place any pressure on myself. I’m starting a relationship from a place of honor, grace and respect.
My writing is a part of my voice…of who I am. Shame and doubt are no longer welcome in this warm, fuzzy cocoon I’ve created for myself.