So, here's the deal. I have a complicated history with reading and writing.
The short version is I’ve felt a calling to be a writer for a long time. Since probably the year 2000! But, I had/ have doubts. You aren't that good. You don't really have anything unique or important to say. Who cares what you have to say anyway? These are the thoughts that have held me back.
My parents got divorced in the middle of my first grade school year. It wasn't dramatic. It was just a change. It didn't even seem like the change had much magnitude at the time--dad was just gone. We saw him once in a while, but it wasn't all that different from life before the divorce since he travelled for work most of the time anyway. As I grew up, I realized it had more of an impact than I thought.
See, when traumatic things happen to kids, especially at important developmental stages, there are toxic levels of stress that get released and it literally causes damage to the DNA and brain cells. There are long lasting consequences even when we don't see any damage on the outside. On the surface, it seemed like dad was just gone. Below the surface, it altered my confidence, pieces of my identity, and disrupted my learning how to read.
I was a slow reader. I got pulled out for resource help. Something so seemingly small had a great impact on me. I grew up believing I wasn't that smart. I got good grades, but I had to work hard and study. However, all through school, I never really challenged myself because of this belief. Why try something I'm just going to fail? I could have taken AP or honors classes, but I just did the bare minimum when it came to literature and English classes—with the exception of Shakespeare. I love(d) Shakespeare..
So, when I got to college (which was a miracle of miracles that I was even accepted based on my miniscule SAT scores), I still had it in my head that I wasn't that smart, and on top of this, I wasn't prepared for college level reading and writing because of said “bare minimum” courses. I bombed my first semester. Like, they put me on academic probation at risk of losing my scholarships, bombed. Thankfully, God put me in a place where professors believed in and encouraged me, and with a roommate that was a literal godsend. (I will forever be grateful for you, Heidi!) She edited all my papers and sometimes read to me out loud so I would finish reading assignments on time. I paid attention to the feedback she gave, used it in subsequent assignments, and ultimately developed into an okay writer. By the end of freshman year, I had grown some confidence in my reading and writing abilities. (Thank you "Religious Themes in Modern Literature" and Laura Bloxham!)
Sophomore year brought another growth spurt in my writing ability and a professor who actually told me that I was a good writer. (Thank you Douglas Dye, the history guy!) In fact, I changed my major(s) to Education & History with a minor in English! I just kept thinking how rough my years of schooling were, and focusing on this course of action could help me *maybe, just maybe* make a difference in another young person's journey. (More on changing majors at a later date.)
Starting post-college, adult life had a myriad of its own challenges, but I did begin teaching, and most of those first years of teaching included teaching English and writing. I'm confident that I did help a few young learners feel more confident and passionate about their own learning process!
During all this time (a couple decades have since passed), I have had this nagging desire to write. And those doubts I mentioned above kept creeping in. And they grew into more complicated anxieties as I aged as well. Because as I aged, I also learned more about myself, mental health, how toxic my family of origin was (and still is), and by the grace of God, I've also done a ton of healing and work on myself.
As I was doing my Bible Study last week, I heard God say, it's time. It wasn't an audible voice (don't worry), but it was a reassuring sense of peace that it's okay to say what I need to say and that even if no one reads it or cares what I have to say, I did it for me and that in itself is an accomplishment.
So, welcome to my blog. I'm going to be processing and writing here. Some of these post may slide into my book. Yep, I'm working on a book! And, I'm glad you are here and along for this crazy ride.
<><, C