|Girl Boss tee// Lyssé leggings c/o//Guess boots via Rack Room Shoes c/o// Leather bomber (thrifted but similar here)// Kate Spade bag via Twice// Express sunnies// Photo credit: Amy Hess Photography|
I’ve loved to write for as long as I can remember. I still have a journal that I started in 4th grade, poems I wrote in middle school, and there would have been a Xanga from high school but I deleted it in the midst of high school drama antics.
It’s always been a way for me to express myself, a way to feed my creative soul and a way to share my inner thoughts and feelings. I always received A’s in English and loved the days we were given a “free write” and could write whatever we wanted in our journals. Prompts were okay as long as they were something I enjoyed writing but “free writes”, well those were the best. I was able to zone out of the real world and clear my mind for that ten minute period at the beginning of class. My nerves were calm, my head was clear… it was my own personal high.
I started blogging when Z deployed the first time. Yes, I could have kept it to myself and written in a journal that was securely tucked under my bed. I could have made it semi-private and shared it with him and family or friends. But for some reason, I decided to make it public. I didn’t share it at first, but then began sharing with Facebook friends. I didn’t write everyday, or even every week. I wrote when I was having a hard time. I wrote when I was worried. I wrote when I was mad, or sad, or scared. It was just there for me. Writing has always been there for me.
As we near the end of 2014, I can’t help but think of how much has changed. I can’t help but think that I’m in a place I never thought I would be in. I never thought I would be married with two kids and living this lifestyle in which I knew nothing about. I thought I would still be friends with people I’m not. I thought I would be working, not staying at home to raise kids. I thought I would have life figured out and know what I wanted to spend the rest of my life doing.
But with 2015 right around the corner, I can honestly say I don’t have life figured out. I don’t have answers that I thought I would and I don’t know how our future will go. I don’t know if we’re done having kids or when our ties with the Army will be cut. I don’t know if we will ever get the wedding we didn’t get to have or if we will see our family more than a few times throughout the year. I don’t know if I’ll go to my high school reunion or if I will ever feel financially stable. I don’t have these answers, and I’m not sure I’m supposed to.
I’ll be 28 this coming year, but I still feel as though I just walked out of my high school yesterday. I can remember walking into my college dorm for the first time or rather stumbling in the first night after the bars. I can remember dancing in elementary school and playing outside with friends. Or trading stickers and playing with Beanie Babies. I can remember the simpler times but also the drama that came with being a teenage girl. I can remember the heartaches, the heartbreaks, being grounded, and learning how to drive. And as much as I worried about the future then, it all worked out.
It always works out. Maybe not the exact way we pictured it happening, but it always does. Life can’t be planned and as much as we’d like to think we can control it, we can’t. We have to learn to roll with the punches and swerve when we’re thrown a curveball. We have to lean on our strengths and accept that it’s okay to have weaknesses. That we may not be on the path in life we thought we’d be on, but are still equally happy and maybe even more content than we pictured ourselves being.
Life isn’t always cupcakes and rainbows. Being a mom is hard. Marriage is hard. Growing up is hard. Life is hard. But that it, it’s life. There’s ups and downs and highs and lows. It’s not always fair and it’s not always what you think it should be. But there will always be things that make you happy and that bring you back to your happy place. Writing has always been that for me. From an innocent 9 year old to a grown 27 year old, writing will always be one of those things that doesn’t change. I’ll never get bored of writing and it will always be my vice. It will always be my passion. It will always be there for me. It will always be apart of me.
Will it ever be anything more than a hobby? I don’t know, maybe. It’s one of the only things I can picture myself doing for the rest of my life and maybe one day, I’ll find a way to do it as a job. Newspaper, magazine, write a book… who knows. But for now, I’ll fill this blank space with random thoughts and life lessons. I’ll connect with other women who share the same passions; love, parenting, fashion, and more. But above all, it will be a place for me to pour my heart out… and whoever wants to read it, can. Because as we ring in 2015, I can look back on this roller coaster ride that 2014 has been and smile. Because no matter what happens or what has happened, I know that I was strong enough to make it through it all.
And that when everything else failed me, this blank space didn’t.