Becoming Something
I find myself waiting to become something before I can write. I want to write. I wish to express myself through the written word. It is cathartic for me, and I feel like I often have something I need to share...even if no one else reads it. Yet, I keep waiting. I keep waiting until "something" happens. "Something" that would make me feel like I am a qualified "someone"--that I've arrived in some way.
I wait, and I wait, and more people tell me I should blog, Instagram, anything to get my ideas and experiences out there. But, still I hesitate. I wait for something to happen. I need to be "more." But "more" and "something" never come. While I wait, life keeps happening. What am I waiting to have happen? I have experiences I could write about that might help others going through that experience. I am a daughter of 29 years. I am a wife of five years. I am a mother of a three year old. I had major back surgery after a catastrophic injury revealed a congenital defect and spent the first 8 months of 2019 mostly confined to my bedroom. I have a house I am working to make a home. I have so many experiences that I could talk about...and now I feel a different paralysis. Namely, I'm wondering how I will catch up on my life. There's so much I want to say. Where do I start? Do I go back in time to present day? Is it a common problem to have too much material as a writer? I imagine so.
The online space is so filled with people talking. Why do I feel like I have something different, special, worthy of saying? The answer is I do not in particular. No one really does. God has given everyone a unique voice. I am not going to apologize for "talking" in an already crowded space. No, the Internet doesn't need me. But, that's not why I am writing. I am writing because I feel compelled from within to do so.
I am slowly working on a blog redesign as I add new content. Soon, I'll be changing the layout theme and archiving old posts. I still go back and look at some of my recipes from when I had more time to simply play in the kitchen. I will be launching an Instagram page as well to capture those quick life moments. This will be a space about me and my life as a stay-at-home-mom and homemaker.
I wait, and I wait, and more people tell me I should blog, Instagram, anything to get my ideas and experiences out there. But, still I hesitate. I wait for something to happen. I need to be "more." But "more" and "something" never come. While I wait, life keeps happening. What am I waiting to have happen? I have experiences I could write about that might help others going through that experience. I am a daughter of 29 years. I am a wife of five years. I am a mother of a three year old. I had major back surgery after a catastrophic injury revealed a congenital defect and spent the first 8 months of 2019 mostly confined to my bedroom. I have a house I am working to make a home. I have so many experiences that I could talk about...and now I feel a different paralysis. Namely, I'm wondering how I will catch up on my life. There's so much I want to say. Where do I start? Do I go back in time to present day? Is it a common problem to have too much material as a writer? I imagine so.
The online space is so filled with people talking. Why do I feel like I have something different, special, worthy of saying? The answer is I do not in particular. No one really does. God has given everyone a unique voice. I am not going to apologize for "talking" in an already crowded space. No, the Internet doesn't need me. But, that's not why I am writing. I am writing because I feel compelled from within to do so.
I am slowly working on a blog redesign as I add new content. Soon, I'll be changing the layout theme and archiving old posts. I still go back and look at some of my recipes from when I had more time to simply play in the kitchen. I will be launching an Instagram page as well to capture those quick life moments. This will be a space about me and my life as a stay-at-home-mom and homemaker.
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| Despite having been covered by snow and experiencing temperatures in the 'teens, these saffron crocus continue to bloom. |
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