This may surprise you, but I am a writer. Professionally and creatively. I’ve been writing since I was seven years old. Where the big vocabulary came from, I’m not sure. It could have been my collection of hardcover Nancy Drew Books.
I am a technophile. A geek. A gamer. A chihuahua-loving, tree-hugging weirdo that used to burn everything she tried to cook. After my Aunt died, I started writing down the recipes of my family. Some she had provided to me by email. And while I try to be modest (sometimes) I have to say… my cooking kicks some serious butt. Italian food, anyhow. I am also mastering jello shots.
I’ve been divorced twice. Yep, I am
single in a fabulous relationship with the most wonderful man I have ever met.
And I am
pushing fifty. I’m told I look young and act young. With ADHD, the energy that exhausts me inside must keep me pickled on the outside. I feel like a (responsible) kid most days. Explorative. Adventurous. Less idealistic but always hopeful.
I did one thing right. I dreamed I could make a living with my writing. Some people said it would never happen.
I remember my Dad saying that creative writers “ended up living in crappy apartments above convenience stores”. I’ve never lived in one. Okay wait, I did once when I was living in Windsor and waiting for immigration. Yeah, that sucked. But i never did it again.
I worked hard to prove him wrong. And when I did, he wasn’t around to congratulate me. Or care. I’ve lived and continue to live a vibrant life, with a high degree of self-awareness. And a penchant for sharing way the hell too much.
Blogging for me is therapeutic. It gets the loud noise of uncertainty and self-doubt out of my head and onto paper. Well, onto a blog. It is kind of like letting the steam out of a pressure cooker so the lid doesn’t blow off. If you find it interesting, I am flattered. If it is of value to you and inspires you? Then I am serving a greater and worthy purpose.
When I am happy, I blog. When I am angry, I also blog. Often I blog about relationships because having good relationships matters to me. Romantic, familial, and friendships matter greatly to me. I sometimes just choose the wrong people to be loyal to. And if someone I was nice to is crappy to me? Oh hell YES, I am going to blog about it.
While I feel like I should lock down the oversharing, it’s who I am. According to the NEO-Five Factor Inventory, I score in the 93rd percentile. My psychologist thought it was super weird, and tested me twice. Same results. I will literally tell you anything if you hang around long enough. It’s an intimacy thing. I want to be known, and to deeply know other people, and what makes them tick.
This bent also freaks the holy hell out of some people.
I’m just a girl that loves expressing herself with words. And some people think it’s an uncommon talent. I thought it was a worthless talent my whole life and something that made me seem weird to others. That’s okay. Less than 3% of the world can write well. I now consider it a superpower that I am grateful for. No matter what has come and gone (or who) in my life, I have always had God and writing.
I am a Midlife Debutante. Coming out again, as an older and (hopefully) wiser human being. On a simple mission to seek joy and fulfillment. And to appreciate the blessings of life.
You’ll hear me talking about some wonderful woman named Diane a lot. She’s my best friend and my everything. We still disagree about whose bosoms are bigger. *shrug* You may also hear me talking about some Random Guitar Dude. He is proof, that God hears the silent prayers of your heart.
Welcome to my blog. I hope it inspires you to prioritize the most important relationship you have. Loving yourself, and living life with self-compassion, and an affable sense of adventure. Because I know, life is short.