My entire life I’ve wanted to be a writer. Literally. Before I knew how to write I would dictate poems and stories to my mom. She still has them tucked away on a shelf in my baby book. I would write stories and draw pictures to go along with them on the stationary my dad would bring home from work and hotels. I won poetry contests and short story contests. I have notebook upon notebook upon journal upon notebook full of poems, fan fiction, thoughts and all kinds of random writings that I used as my saving grace when I was in high school. I studied English and literature. I had a creative writing scholarship.
Then for some reason I stopped writing and walked away from it and didn’t do it any more. I changed my college major, transferred schools, declined the scholarship….I just didn’t have the love for it. I ‘thought’ I didn’t have the love for it. My love has always been there, though. I would miss it. I would wish I could do it again. Something stopped me, though. Something in my head or my heart- maybe it was the thought that my writing wasn’t good enough. Good enough for what? I don’t know. It just wasn’t good enough. The love for poetry and stories and reading has always been there, though. It always will be….
I didn’t like to share my writing, which is crazy for a writer. How do you expect to ever write a novel if you don’t want anyone to read it? Silly, I know. A little over a year ago I met a guy that studied English and loved to write, too. He sent me his poems, I send him my poems and stories…and I think they helped him fall in love with me a little. I know reading the things he wrote made me fall in love with him some. We’re here a year down the road and 9 months in to a relationship and he encourages me constantly to stick with it. He just told me he reads the emails I send him like a literary work because I have such a way with words. He tells me to stick with my blog, to finally turn one of my short stories that I wrote for a class in to a bigger work and to keep writing poetry. I write my poetry for him. He has been the inspiration behind every poem I’ve written in the last 12 months. He actually just told me he would read my writing even if it was about a cheese grater….haha.
I want people to take something away from the things that I write, but I mostly want to do it for myself. I want to remember events, I want to express my feelings on paper, I want to share my thoughts…I want to spin words in to a message and get it all out- even if nobody reads it.
I do love writing. I always have and I always will- even though I got a little lost on the way and even if I get lost somewhere again. I guess I’m writing this out as a pledge to myself to do this and make this happen and finally make a little girl’s dream come true…