I used to identify myself as a writer. Pre-kids. Pre-husband. Pre-adult life really. As a late teen, I really found myself in my writing. I could write for hours and hours at a time. Pumping out thousands of words a week. I had so much to say. So much to write about! Now as I sit here marinating in my 30’s… the life with kids, work, , marriage, bills, stress (OH so much stress!!!), all the growth that my words used to bring me, it’s gone it seems. I don’t actually have anything to write about now, do I? Stories to tell? I don’t know. Do I have anything of value to offer besides my mothering duties, my work life, cooking, cleaning, scheduling appointments for the kids? It’s so hard to know as my past self has dissolved into this new being, transformed by all the shit that life has thrown at me so far. Made stronger? I don’t know if I would say that either to be honest. I have felt broken for much of the time I’ve been a mother.

Anyway, about writing. Or rather, my lack of writing.

How did that happen? It’s been a good decade at least since I’ve written anything that felt like home to me. Well, I guess I’ve just let too many other things get in the way. I feel like I’ve come full circle and that I have been yearning for a way to add fulfillment to my life again. Why didn’t I think of writing sooner? I should have, but just didn’t. It’s hard to get back into an old passion…much like an old lover. I suppose I was afraid it wouldn’t feel as good as before, like I wouldn’t know where to start. It also seems as though I was very much mistaken in my thoughts and hesitations, as I allow the juices to flow the words are taking my breath away! It’s exhilarating to feel my brain composing faster than my fingers can type, the thoughts escaping and turning into emotions. In this moment I can feel my heart beating – like I am a human again. Something beyond a caregiver. More than a nose wiper.

How long will it last? I guess we will see if spending a few minutes with my brain actually functioning can happen a few times a week. It sounds like so little, but in my everyday life it really is a lot. My teenager self never would have believed “it” – this life I have now. Never could have dreamed the good and the bad that I experience every day now. But the writing…it feels the same as it did 15 years ago. Time may fly but the heart doesn’t forget.