“When do you have time to read?”
He asked me that while I had two books – with absolutely beautiful unbroken spines – in my hands in the middle of the Target book aisle. Target is not my first choice for book shopping, but it was convenient in the moment.
As I drove home that evening, I have to admit that I felt a pang of guilt and a touch of melancholy when I repeated Matthew’s words in my head. For the past few months, I have been so caught up in the go-go-go of life, that I haven’t made time for my true passion: writing (with some reading, of course!).
I realized that I let go of what kept me sane for so many years and with that I also came to realize that I let go of my dream of writing. Yes, yes, I write every day, but I don’t write the way I believe I was meant to write. Sounds a bit confusing, right? Let me explain. . .
In fourth grade, I realized what I needed to do in order to reach self-actualization: To become a writer. Well, that’s sort of what happened. I did know that writing was what set me apart from the other kids and that followed me throughout the rest of my schooling. In college, I was an English major for a whole two semesters before panicking and switching to communication. The idea of being graded on sharing my most intimate pieces (every piece is intimate to me) to classmates terrified me, but I kept my English minor.
I never stopped wanting to become a writer.
I never wanted to stop becoming like Sandra Cisneros or Paulo Coelho.
I never wanted to stop sharing my stories.
I never wanted to stop others from feeling like they were not alone.
I never wanted to stop sharing all of these characters that accompany me on my walks along the ocean.
I simply never wanted to stop, but I did.
So, now as I re-read old favorites and meet new friends on new pages. . .I’m also taking a new leap of faith and promising to finally put all of my writings into a book.
Will it be a New York Times Best Seller? Maybe. Maybe not. We’ll just have to wait and see what you all think one day.