I wrote my first short story at age 5, and years later when I attended college I was still writing. I wanted to write about those hush-hush topics, and journalism allowed me to do that. There were no chickens allowed. I also grabbed the opportunity to become editor of the college newspaper and I wrote an editorial column.
Since I had a good relationship with my journalism professor I could write about some touchy topics like racism and abortion. Now, mind you I live in Portland, Oregon today, but I grew up in the south. The Bible Belt of the south and dating outside your race would almost send you to hell. And, it irritated me how incredibly narrow-minded and judgmental people were. I liked to blow the top off those mindsets. I was 18 and taking the world by storm. I knew what I stood for.
I’m not 18 anymore. I’m married to an amazing man and have two great kids. My baby will graduate high school next June. And, I don’t have the world by storm anymore. At all…In fact, I’ve lost sight of many things. The world doesn’t look the same as it did when I was 18. I’ve grown up, gotten my butt kicked all over the place emotionally, physically and spiritually, but I’ve continued to get up.
I still have something to say just like I did when I wrote my own column in the college paper. I just write short stories now. Writing has always remained the constant in my life, and when the chips and everything else were down, it picked me up again.
And, guess what? I am chicken about putting myself out there and bleeding a little, but I know why I write and what it means to me. Do you?
Until Next Time…