So, Mike, the other half, and I will be moving to a new location this coming weekend. While, the change is a much-needed one and nerve-wracking and hopefully the start of new adventures and story inspiration, I can’t help but be sad by it all.
So, this is me packing up my books in boxes, lovingly stroking their covers, feeling sad like I’m packing away old friends. Thinking in my head: I’ll come back for you…this is only for a short while.
Already missing my collection of Knickknacks, my odes to Star Wars, and squeeze stress cow.
It took me a long time to feel like I even had the words to say to even justify me having an office. It’s no joke that this gal here has struggled with a terrible writer’s fear after college.
Back then, I had the words to say in my head and my writers voice would just go and go and sometimes went even when I was supposed to be doing other things.
After graduation, it felt like that voice was buried under a thick sludge of self-conscious. I went to the page with fear in my heart and self-doubt. I started a blog, I wrote, I stopped, I wrote again.
And then somewhere along the years of this, I discovered that I was being ridiculous. Oh, the fear is still there, of course. I feel it now wanting to creep it in, but I won’t let it.
I didn’t need an office to validate me as a writer, although having one is certainly a perk. Being a writer is something much more than that; and even though I’m sad I’ll no longer have this place to call home, I feel like, home is where the heart is.
My writing home can be the same way. It’s like a state of being. It’s where I most belong…I just have to make it so.
Happy Writing Everyone!