I’ve always loved to write.
I vividly remember one New Year’s Eve when I was about 7. I decided that I wanted to write 10 stories before the New Year. I spent the rest of the evening furiously writing away while other kids my age bounced off walls fully enjoying the rare past midnight bed time.
Something happened when I became older, I stopped writing with abandon. I stopped writing for fun. I majored in journalism in college and could whip out a five page paper in 30 minutes or less.
I dipped my toes into writing for myself when I started a blog a few years before I got pregnant. Something was missing. I was self conscious. My voice was missing.
Through my grief, I started really writing again. The flood gates opened. I stopped caring about how my words might be taken or if my writing was good, and I just wrote. Turns out it was good. People read it and they were moved.
I’m so thankful each and every day that Cora lead me back to writing. She gave me this gift of writing straight from my heart. Sometimes the words seem to pour from my soul onto the keyboard, bypassing my brain all together. Other times I start writing and sort out feelings and emotions as I go.
I always wanted to be a writer. Thanks to Cora, now I am.