Finding a New Reality

Honor your reality Prompt
This post is in response to DIY MFA Book Club Prompt #2

I sit at my desk, iPod on the never ending shuffle and try to decide what to write for this DIY MFA prompt.  How do I honor my reality when I am still trying to find it?  How do I write a post like this without sounding like a whiney teenager?  (#Firstworldproblems)

 

How do I honor my reality when I'm still trying to find out what my reality is?

Two weeks ago I was a receptionist, a psychometrist, a consultant, a student, a mother, a wife, an artist, and a writer.  I am still most of those things but I had to let something go.  I went to my boss telling her we needed to replace me. The front desk needed someone who could be there more than 10 hours a week.  It wasn’t fair to the office and it would free me some time to study and make sure I kept my gpa up for my final year.

Well Monday that day came and I cleaned out my desk.  I am no longer a receptionist and if every thing goes as planned that is a role I won’t fall back into again.  For 11 years of my life I have worked in medical offices. I got to know the patients, listen to their stories, and help them how ever I could.  I don’t do that any longer.

Admittedly, this was my choice. I can study in the mornings before classes, I have time to write while the kids are at school.  I can spend my senior year keeping up and not forgetting what my friends and family look like. I can keep my grades up and get into a good master’s program.  Being a therapist will allow me to help people in ways I couldn’t as a receptionist.

So why the hell am I so sad? I chose this, I wanted this, and this is 100% the path I am passionate about.  Being a therapist is the road I have been on all my life.  Just like telling stories has always been a part of me.  Now that I have the opportunity to do the 2 things I love the most, shouldn’t I be ecstatic? Shouldn’t I be over the moon and typing my heart and soul into the story I’ve been playing with?

For now, I can not honor my reality.  I have to forge a new one again.

How Did I Become a Writer?

I found the DIY MFA website a few weeks ago and have been loving digging around in there.  When the email came out about a Book Club with writing prompts hit my inbox I was fascinated.  Hesitant to add more to my schedule but fascinated all the same.  I decided to bite the bullet and sign up.  Beside, who cares if I get behind as long as I enjoy it and learn something along the way.  So without further ado, prompt 1:

My Writing Origin Story

I have always been a writer.  Even as a child I had a vivid imagination.  I would day dream and play pretend all day.  I remember being obsessed with Davy Crocket and taking my cousin on many adventures through the wild frontier.  I have little books I wrote in elementary school and various poems published from high school.  I have had many attempts at a blog.  None were successful but they all have brought me experience and happiness.

Writing a book was not something I ever really gave much thought to. I love writing poems and making up stories in my head. But to write a book seems so big.  Yet it hit all of a sudden and I knew it was something I have to do.  Just the act of preparing for that book has brought me joy.  The jotting down of notes, the planning of characters and the creating of worlds.  Even if my book never goes beyond my computer I am a writer.