So….why now?

Ah yes, what prompts a 40-something mother of two with no formal training or education in English, Creative Writing, or anything else for that matter, to insert herself so boldly into the blogosphere?

It all started with the words “So what, who cares!”.

 I’ve covered the back story-wanting to write, and spending my younger years journaling and writing.  And I think we can all relate to the hobbies that are cast off as we start raising children and finding that life is busier than we ever dreamed. We innocently assume that once we are out of the diaper years and the toddler years that we will ‘have time’ again, but alas, this is not true. The carpool years start shortly thereafter-driving to school, t-ball, soccer games, playdates-these are ‘the endless stream of mileage on the car’ years. I can safely say, that as a stay at home mom I put more miles per year on my car than my husband did commuting to work. I doubled his. (Now that is scary.)

During those years spent in the car, I dreamed of the ‘when they get older’ years, and they are finally here.  At 11 and 15, I am no less busy but I am able to tune out and carve out a few hours to myself. And here I am.

 But why am I writing now?  Let’s just say that the last three years also did not go as I had planned.  It’s a long story to be told later, but at one point my therapist said to me that I ‘just need to keep repeating the words “so what, who cares” ‘. This mantra was handed to me in the midst of what I am certain was an emotional breakdown of some sort, and I looked at her like she had just sprouted wings. What? So what? Who cares? Are you mad woman?

 I was quitting a job that paid me a crazy amount of money, but that I hated and no one could understand it and I could not explain it. Everyone thought I was crazy.

 So What. Who Cares.

I was in the middle of a lawsuit that had been dragging on three years and that was stealing every shred of privacy and dignity I had.  There were lawyers criticizing me, questioning me, judging me, and looking for ways to defame me. 

 So What. Who Cares.

Sitting in her office with a pile of snotty tissue in my lap, wondering for the bajillionth time ‘what the fxck is wrong with me?’  she looked at me plainly and said,

“Not one thing. Who cares what they think. So what. Who are they and why do they matter? They don’t.”

So I quit the job, and settled the lawsuit, and when the dust settled a good hard look at the previous years.  I sat with myself and looked at all the nitty-gritty and decided that I have to own it.  It has been my mess. The little things turned into big things and one thing came after another thing and before I knew it, bad days had snowballed into bad years and there I was. 

 So What. Who Cares.

 Indeed.

This past December as others were making resolutions, I was making my Bucket List and my F*ck it List.  My Bucket List grows every day as I shake my fears and find out who I am and what I am made of all over again. I want to paint. I want to learn to dance. I want to skydive,  and travel alone. I want to write. It is all the things I want to see and do, it is all the dreams I have and chances I want to take and changes I want to make.

My F*ck It list is the list of things I am ready to let go of. Guilt. Embarrassment. Fear. Shame. Anger. Hate. Baggage. Drama.  Make my peace and let ‘em go.  My F*ck It list is the long list, the list that is the epitomy of So What Who Cares.  It is the list of insecurities and questions that start to whisper in my ear when I step outside the lines.  It is a BIG list.

I found a quote a while back by Haruki Marukami.  It speaks volumes to me now.

“When you walk out of the storm, you won’t be the same person that walked in. That is what the storm is about. “

I am not the same person now that the storm has passed.  I have a lot to say.  I have a lot to share, a lot of stories to tell and while I could easily journal in my notebooks as I have done in the past, it doesn’t seem enough anymore. I want to make someone else laugh. Someone else smile. Someone else say ‘me too.’ I want to find my voice and believe that somewhere it will help someone else find his or hers. 

 

About startingwritenow

I am a mom, a wife, a sister, daughter and friend. I love a good laugh, a house full of people, a great craft beer (or two), a bold red wine and a book or movie of any kind.-good, bad or otherwise! I believe in learning something everyday, in growing and changing every chance you get. I don't fit in every circle, I don't color inside the lines, but I have learned to love my messy life!
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