So, I am really doing it. I am starting my own blog, yikes! I have to admit I am feeling a little bit vulnerable. Who am I kidding, I am feeling a LOT vulnerable. I DO NOT like to feel vulnerable. To me, feeling vulnerable means that I am emotionally fragile, weak and delicate. I do not ever want to be described as fragile, weak or delicate. People who know me, might find it ironic that these are my fears. My friends and family would not use any of these words to describe me because I am 5’9″, broad-shouldered, fairly athletic, competitive and far from shy when it comes to expressing myself.
I can talk to anyone, I mean ANYone. This can be a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing in my career because I work with families of children and adults with special needs. I have to be able to establish a good rapport relatively quickly in order to better understand what I can do to help. My ability to talk to anyone is also a blessing with my neighbors because, I can model for my children how important it is to have good relationships with those in your community.
My ability to talk to anyone can also be a curse. My husband loves to tease me about the odd encounters I tend to have with complete strangers. You know when you are at a party and there is one guy, that seems to be “out-of-place”. Maybe his social skills are severely lacking. Perhaps he has had way too much to drink or has poor hygiene. Regardless of what makes this man “out-of-place”, he WILL ultimately and unequivocally find me. Before long, I am aware that he grew up in Michigan, is twice divorced and collects those strange Garbage Patch Kids Cards.
I have been writing for some time now. I save my stories in password protected files so that no one can read them except me. I realize that choosing to create a blog, posting some of my old stories, as well as creating new stories, will be pushing me way out of my comfort zone. I found a quote that pretty much sums it up for me.
“Vulnerability is about showing up and being seen. It’s tough to do that when we’re terrified of what people might see or think.” Brene Brown
When I was a kid, I would write short stories all the time. I loved the Sweet Valley High book series so much that I made up my own series about a teenage girl named Leanne. When I started college my major was English because I thought it would help me accomplish my dream to some day write professionally. At the beginning of my junior year of college I woke up one day and had an epiphany. I decided that I wanted to study Special Education and Psychology. It was a tough decision but one that I did not take lightly. My sweet big brother, Greg, to whom I have always affectionately referred as “Bubba”, gave me the most thoughtful gift that Christmas. It was a lovely dark wood stained lap desk. I slowly opened the lid to the lap desk, and inside was a hand written letter from my brother, Greg. and this is what it said.
Nicoli-Bowlcut, (that’s a nick name that Greg gave me when we were kids)
You may be wondering why I chose this gift but, I have a good reason. You see, I know you’ve changed your major to Special-Ed but, I still know your passion for writing. You’ve always supported my passion for music and I want to do the same. So please promise me one thing, you’ll write your first novel (you know the “bestseller”) on this lap desk. OK?
I Love You,
So, in honor of my sweet Bubba, I am writing this very first Blog post with the Lap Desk right next to my laptop. Even though it’s 2014 and I am not creating “on” the lap desk and I am not “writing” because I’m typing, I’m happy to report that the lap desk is still a part of the creative writing process. Thank you to my awesome Bubba for encouraging me so many years ago and thank you to me sweet husband and two kids who have endured my absenteeism the last few days. I hope you enjoy what you read as I try to make sense of this life that is mine.