As a rebellious teen I refused to be like everyone else. I sported a rats tail, short spiky hair way too many holes in my ears and eventually my first tattoo.I was restless and fearless and ready to show anyone I was ready to take on the world. In retrospect I think I was so disappointed and uncomfortable with the fact that I didn’t fit in that I had to push myself out of the norm and go so far as to point it out to everyone around me. Made me much more comfortable with being me.
My adventures back then were getting my ears pierced (again!) or my belly button, or daring myself to get up on the stage or asking someone out who I knew would never be interested. I felt I needed these dares, if you’d like to call them that, to prove something….to…feel like I existed perhaps?
Twenty years later the possibilities for adventure taking have become pretty slim. Not many opportunities to go running out on a dare for a mommy of two little ones while running a daycare….
So that seems to be the reason why I have turned to exercising my writing muscles. The adventures I have had in just the last six months since I started focusing on it…Everything someone like me should probably not do including murdering a teenager with a pen. There are nights when I am so extremely impatient for my kids to stop talking, settle the heck down and fall asleep so that I can sneak out of their room, grab my laptop and settle in for a five hour frolic through Central Park with a perfect tall, dark and handsome man, or sit down for tantalizing conversations with God.
I never before realized how strong and persuasive the mind can be…how my stories can get me through a torturous night of vomiting little ones, or how I can experience all the ‘what ifs’ I’m so curious about, or how writing a play for a friend can be both entertaining and healing for both of us…Healing…My writing adventures are definitely healing. In my early twenties I took more risks with my health and safety than I’d like to admit. They were exciting and great inspiration for my writing now but not the safest…
I feel more confident about myself these days. I am creating and sharing my stories, no longer sitting on my ass watching others’. I feel more like I’m contributing to something…to my children’s future….to my future health and well being…
I still don’t like being like everyone else. I’m still not totally comfortable with myself or even the choices I’ve made…it’s definitely not the fairytale I had once dreamed about…but I try to squeeze every moment out of every day that I can. I refuse to let anymore time pass by and for some people that sounds a little nutso. That’s okay with me. I just know that this writing thing is quite the trip…and I hope I can keep it going for….as long as I can enjoy the ride….