Life Comes Full Circle

Once upon a time, I was a bookworm. Ok, I still am. Ever since I was a little girl, I have been addicted to books. My 5th grade yearbook predicted I would be an author thanks to this love of books. I was once grounded from books for a whole summer as a result of reading too much. My parents knew how to punish me when I was out of line.

I’ve always had a fascination with stories. It doesn’t just have to be books. I once lived in Hawaii, and when spending time just visiting, they call it “talking story” and it’s one of my favorite things. Stories and their interpretation tell so much about not only individuals, but even the culture around them.

I have spent a lot of time absorbing stories; as a child in books, through classes I have taken in college, the stories I created living every day and “talking story” with those around me. I learn from them, and build and strengthen relationships through them. By this point, everything has become a story to me.

So it only makes sense that I would want to become a writer, right? I dreamed of this when I was a little girl. I have several short stories and poems that I saved from old homework assignments and I love digging through my old journals and seeing how far my writing has come. But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of that desire.

Oh, I still thought it would be cool and I might do it one day, but it’s more of a side hobby. I went to college looking for something secure and a job that would allow me to pay back the student loans. As long as I was writing, even if it was just my journal, I was happy and content to move forward with life as it happens. I had my out let for writing. I had my outlet for stories as I would visit with friends and continued to live my life.

Not only was writing not secure, but I felt alone. No one else had such a love a books or reading. Who went to the public library in their spare time? I worked in our local library my senior year, I saw the amount of people coming in. Our high school library was always empty. I came up with a million excuses to cover my fears and insecurities, pushing these dreams farther and farther to the side.

Going through life, I went through a few different college majors as I drifted away from these dreams of writing a book one day. Somehow, I wound up in a major that didn’t seem to have much in common with writing. I would up in several communications classes that reminded me how much I love writing.

Then I took a class called Narrative, Identity and Culture. I called it my story telling class. It completely validated weird ideas that I had as a child about the importance of stories. All of these classes reignited this passion of mine.

I decided to do a senior paper instead of an internship. I was told this was a crazy idea and I won’t get a good job without an internship. Turns out, they were right. However, this senior paper was a turning point for me. I learned so much about myself, and it was incredibly validating to have college professors tell me there was nothing like this in the field and I needed to get this published. I was hooked. And I did it.

That college paper is about to become a full-fledged book! Granted, it’s a short book, around 50 pages, but I finally got the courage to follow and pursue something I have always wanted to do. Life has a way of bringing us full circle to the things that are most important in out lives. Our lives have purpose. I’ve rediscovered mine, and I will not let it ago again.

I have a purpose.

YOU have a purpose.

Are you acting on it?