For many years people would ask me, "What are you going to do with your life?" and in my most excited and enthusiastic voice, usually a little bit high-pitched, I would would respond, "I'm a stay at home mom."
"Well, that's great but what do you want to do for the rest of your life?" Was always the response. Like I wasn't contributing to society or making my mark on the world raising kids.
That was what I was plannig on doing for the rest of my life, but I had this uneasy feeling that ate and ate away at me until I couldn't stand it anymore. Someting was missing, but what?
So I decided, I wanted to write and I checked a towering stack of books out at the local library and set to work studying these books about writing. The first book I read was about writing for children- don't even remember the title. I read a few others and decided, no way is writing for me. So I kept looking...
I'm a very creative person and thought I might trying crafting or start my own scrapbook business, but I realized I couldn't do those things forvever. For a long time I did nothing, but life just didn't feel right; I didn't feel complete. A year or two passed with me wandering here and there, and I turned back to writing. I took a class and dove in...
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