Dreamer

A few years ago I had a conversation with a very important person in my life, a person whose opinion and support meant a great deal to me.  I told this person about a secret dream of mine....to be a writer.  As a young girl, while my girlfriends dreamt of being in the movies and riding horses, I would dream of writing - poems, novels, short stories, book reviews - anything that allowed me to translate the seemingly endless stream of thoughts that constantly flowed through my head.  The older I got the more concrete this dream became and the more terrified I was to share it with anyone.  I felt inadequate and afraid to expose myself.  Which is why I never did. 

When I finally confided my cherished dream with this person my greatest fear was realized.  I was told that I was no writer.  A real writer would have already been published, or at the very least written a book.  I had been busy being a wife and mother, and all I had to show for my dream was.....well, nothing.  I might like to write but I was not a writer.  I didn't have the burning passion that real writers do, which is why my dream would always be just that - a dream. 

This person's opinion crushed me.  Even today, nearly six years later, I can't think back to that conversation without reliving the hurt and devastation I felt at hearing those words like it was yesterday.  For years after I buried that part of myself and moved on.  I started school and moved and got a job and had another baby.  Periodically I would contribute to someone's blog or write a report for school, never allowing my mind to stray further than necessary.  That door had closed - my silly, childish fantasy forgotten.

While I was pregnant with my third child I began thinking like a writer again.  Every night as I lay in bed thinking over the day I would write down my thoughts in my head.  The words seemed to flow and the dream was reignited.  So much had changed since that previous conversation.  I had changed.  I was in the midst of making some very heavy, life-changing decisions and digging deep within to find out just who I was and what direction my life needed to take.  I still wasn't ready to put my words down but just opening that door, that possibility, gave me strength.

I've been thinking about starting a blog for awhile now.  I want to chronicle my thoughts and the wonderful life my children and I are creating together.  I don't know how long I will blog for or how often.  It doesn't matter what people have to say or even how many people read it. 

I am going to write for me.