I just finished a book. Me a book. My reading skills were about zero when I first became a mom. After my kids were born I began learning life.
What it was about, how to cope and what dreams can really consist of. I followed everyone that would have me, even if it was the wrong people. I just wanted to fit in. I guess we all just want to fit in, I was lucky to have married a wonderful man who has the patience of a saint. I had so many dreams I could not accomplish one of them on my own. He slow’d me down and gave me the tools to learn how to be truly happy. My children gave me the patience to teach them exactly that. I began writing stories to my girls because I had a hard time explaining things. My confidence was close to nothing back then and so I began writing to my girls and in that moment I began to learn to read. Hummm, I know I do things backwards but hey, I am doing it. I am finally learning that everyone does not need to like me and if I don’t like someone it is okay too. It is amazing how much love I had hidden inside me for so many years. I held onto it as if it would disappear if I shared it in any way. Through writing I not only helped my girls and school age children but myself too. As I tell all my little friends, its okay to cry, to be sad, to want. What is not okay is to hold it all inside thinking it will just fix itself. Learning to love yourself can be very difficult if you had not felt it during childhood. So as we are all adults, I think writers are the gateway to emotion, finding ones self, helping people grow. I am so lucky to have been blessed with the ability to show my love in written words, may my lips have troubles conveying my thoughts and dreams on the spot , my words show me in sight. There I find strength and compassion to keep moving on, to be the writer I sometimes am so afraid of and sometimes feel such strength. Hot and cold, makes the world in the eyes of a grain of sand called me in this wondrous world.