Jessica, this is synchronicity. Today I’ve been having a hard time getting to write about the fact that a dream I once had will never come true.
Almost everyone who knows me closely has been joyful at the idea of me going back to school and studying Psychology in the hopes of becoming a therapist.
For the past 48 hours, events in my life have made it clear to me that I could never be a therapist. My instinct was to write about it. Yet, I know that some people will find out things I’d rather they didn’t.
I’ll have conversations in person I would prefer as email replies.
It scared me and I was going to forget about it. I even rationalized my reason : no one wants to read about your personal life. Who do you think you are? This is not a diary. Will it add value to anyone?
Reading this, I’m reminded of why we, writers, write. It’s true that we want to make a living, we want to pay bills, care for our needs, etc.
But it’s also true that writing may be the only way we survive this life and not implode.
Thank you for the reminder. 🙂