In exactly one week, I will be 35! I don't know if that's considered middle age.... don't huff, I seriously don't know!
I had an anxiety attack last night when it hit me that people will be reading my words. These words were written with tears and desperation, and I thought what if someone I know reads them? Would I still be able to look them in the eyes?
And then I remember a quote a saw on Twitter from Realistic Poetry International......
"Your poetry can be the reason someone else survives something you already have."
Words have power. Words can build legacies or swat them away with insistence until they crumble. I don't know how much of my words will translate to someone who isn't a mom, or a preeclampsia survivor or walked in my shoes.... but if we listen to our neighbors or strangers around us, we find that our stories aren't at all that different. Some fights aren't unique to us and our situation. So, while I inhale and exhale and fight the urge to hit unpublish over here, I hope that my words find comfort in someone like me.
~ Happy Friday, friends. Writers, write your story. Readers, I hope you find some solace and see a semblance of yourself in a book
I drink too much coffee, read too many books, and in between raising miracle babies, I find time to write.