I love to write. It’s who I am and it’s in my blood.
I haven’t written much lately, and I guess while I got my head around things, I haven’t had the desire to.
From the time I was a little girl, I would write about Lipsmackers and the cutest boys in Year 3. I would tear through notebook after notebook writing about little insignificant moments that I could document forever. When I was a teenager, they became more full of angst and moments that were the end of the world, like not having a date to the Year 12 ball. Then it was parties and hot guys. I would write about everything. As a 26 year old, I really did start writing about the end of the world, our fertility journey and failed IVF cycles. It became more significant then.
I got the courage to share my stories last year, my mum, my sister, my husband read what I would write and told me that I could, possibly share my stories with others. So I shared. I wanted mums to know they weren’t alone in the world of parenting, it’s messy and it’s awesome, and it’s crazy and it’s so, so wonderful.
Lately, though, it hasn’t been as fun as it was before. Admitting my inner most demons comes at a price, because not everyone is ok with it. What came from that was my anxiety began to rear its ugly head again and some days I would feel like I’ve made this huge mistake. Then the next day I’m fine.
So while I work some things out for myself and learn to basically, chill the fuck out again it’s goodbye……. for now. Maybe I’ll finish my book… who knows? I wanted to say thanks to everyone for your support and kindness. I hope I’ve bought you a few smiles and maybe some tears because I know I’ve shed a few writing some. I’ve loved sharing my life with you all and I appreciated every comment, private message and moment of clarity you’ve all given me.
So thanks, from the bottom of my heart. Hopefully this will only be temporary and I’ll feel comfortable sharing again… But for now… I have toddlers (Pokemon) to catch. And they run fast!