A while back Thing 2 asked me a question that kinda confounded me. She asked me, "Mom, how long have you wanted to be a writer?" I answered that I'd started writing when I was thirteen and have always wanted to write. She looked at me funny and asked, "So why did you wait so long to actually do it?" I had no answer.
Why did I wait so long? It keeps running around in my brain. I'm heading onto forty and I'm finally doing what I wanted to do at thirteen. My entire adult life had been filled with doing the right things. You know, go to college, get married, get a job, pay the bills. Being a proper, responsible adult. I still am the proper adult (Well as much of an adult as I'll ever be) but I am also fulfilling my dream.
I'll be the first to admit my self confidence has never been the greatest and that plays a part as to why I never tried. But also I honestly never thought it was possible. That it was just a dream, something that would never be me. I'm just an average person, things like this don't happen to me. Publishing deals and such. It's so far fetched that it's crazy.
I wanted to be realistic. To be adult.
But after the conversation with my daughter I thought long and hard. As parents we always tell our kids to go for their dreams. That anything is possible. If I could believe it for my kids why not for me?
How can I honestly push my kids to go for their dreams if I'm not living mine? I wanted to at least try, so I put my self doubts aside, and jumped in. I still have my day job, I still am a parent, a daughter, a sister and all my other titles. I'm still the same person I was, but even Mr. Gloria has noticed a difference. I'm more confident, more at ease with myself. More me.
If there's one thing I can say at the end of it all its never give up. You can live your dreams and still be the adult you need to be. Anything is possible. I'm living proof.
Sorry for the sappy post tonight but it's what I was feeling.