Alright, so I’m 36. I’m a 36-year-old
girl woman. I’m also a writer, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, an accountant, a friend. I’ve published many, many books. Poetry too. I’m also gorgeous and very, very fit. I exercise every night, I eat healthy.
Hate me yet? Don’t. The truth is half the things I just told you are a lie. THE TRUTH IS I’m a procrastinator. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve accomplished things in life and I’ve been known to be brave from time to time. But I work best under the pressure of a deadline, or the driven madness of a newfound challenge or obsession. THE TRUTH IS without those, I’m just the average couch potato with a heavy list of things unfinished.
Once upon a time, I had the right to call myself a writer. I’d carry a notebook with me and I’d write day in and day out. Poetry, letters, songs. Writing was my happy place. It was how I processed life and how I projected my dreams. My senior year of high school I even wrote an award-winning poem. And then I stopped. Life, boyfriends, college, work, everything else got in the way. I still CLAIM to love to write, but I barely ever do. In 2010 I started writing a book… and stopped. Around that time, I discovered NaNoWriMo and proclaimed I was going to participate for 30 days straight. I’ve yet to fail at finding excuses not to finish every year since then.
So here I am – 36 (I’ll be 37 in two months), a daughter, a sister, an aunt, an accountant, and a friend who once dreamt of becoming a writer and who still has a story to tell. I’m also a woman who hasn’t felt happy with the way her body looks or feels for way over a decade, and is just now tired of doing nothing to change it. I’m not obese, but I’m overweight and nothing close to fit. I don’t eat healthy and barely take care of myself at all.
THE TRUTH IS I’m over it, but I’m also scared. I’m scared of starting and not being able to finish. I’m scared of starting and failing, and embarrassing myself along the way. I’m scared of realizing I’m a horrible writer, and that no one will like my story. But most importantly, I’m scared of turning 40 and still not liking what I see in the mirror. I’m scared of turning 40 and, instead or celebrating the start of what’s supposed to be one of the best decades of my life, feeling like a failure for not even attempting to make one of my most treasured dreams come true.
Because I’m scared of THE TRUTH I’ve decided to start this blog. To cut through the BS. To drop all excuses. To laugh, to dream, and to cry with you along the way. I hope you’ll join me.