The Lost World

With willful arrogance,

Eyes wide shut,

We rage and hate,

Black and white,

Everyone sure,

Unbending,

They are right,

The other wrong,

Deaf,

Unwilling to listen

And hear

The hurt and fear,

Lashing out,

Ugly,

Dark with rage.

Fingers point,

Blame the game,

Guardians and protectors

Painted with

Bastardized brush.

Good and evil

Undistinguished

By jaundiced eye.

Bitterness watches,

Gleeful with success.

Good people vilified,

Heartsick,

Their calling

A mockery,

Guardians of the castle

No more.

Dreams to dust.

It’s time…

Lance the wound,

Release the infection

Of hatred and enmity,

Letting the blood of humanity,

Finally,

Flow clean and healthy,

Touching hearts,

Re-building our world

Together,

Living

Technicolor lives,

Fair and free.

Isn’t that why

Lady Justice

Is blind?With willful arrogance,

Eyes wide shut,

We rage and hate,

Black and white,

Everyone sure,

Unbending,

They are right,

The other wrong,

Deaf,

Unwilling to listen

And hear

The hurt and fear,

Lashing out,

Ugly,

Dark with rage.

Fingers point,

Blame the game,

Guardians and protectors

Painted with

Bastardized brush.

Good and evil

Undistinguished

By jaundiced eye.

Bitterness watches,

Gleeful with success.

Good people vilified,

Heartsick,

Their calling

A mockery,

Guardians of the castle

No more.

Dreams to dust.

It’s time…

Lance the wound,

Release the infection

Of hatred and enmity,

Letting the blood of humanity,

Finally,

Flow clean and healthy,

Touching hearts,

Re-building our world

Together,

Living

Technicolor lives,

Fair and free.

Isn’t that why

Lady Justice

Is blind?With willful arrogance,

Eyes wide shut,

We rage and hate,

Black and white,

Everyone sure,

Unbending,

They are right,

The other wrong,

Deaf,

Unwilling to listen

And hear

The hurt and fear,

Lashing out,

Ugly,

Dark with rage.

Fingers point,

Blame the game,

Guardians and protectors

Painted with

Bastardized brush.

Good and evil

Undistinguished

By jaundiced eye.

Bitterness watches,

Gleeful with success.

Good people vilified,

Heartsick,

Their calling

A mockery,

Guardians of the castle

No more.

Dreams to dust.

It’s time…

Lance the wound,

Release the infection

Of hatred and enmity,

Letting the blood of humanity,

Finally,

Flow clean and healthy,

Touching hearts,

Re-building our world

Together,

Living

Technicolor lives,

Fair and free.

Isn’t that why

Lady Justice

Is blind?With willful arrogance,

Eyes wide shut,

We rage and hate,

Black and white,

Everyone sure,

Unbending,

They are right,

The other wrong,

Deaf,

Unwilling to listen

And hear

The hurt and fear,

Lashing out,

Ugly,

Dark with rage.

Fingers point,

Blame the game,

Guardians and protectors

Painted with

Bastardized brush.

Good and evil

Undistinguished

By jaundiced eye.

Bitterness watches,

Gleeful with success.

Good people vilified,

Heartsick,

Their calling

A mockery,

Guardians of the castle

No more.

Dreams to dust.

It’s time…

Lance the wound,

Release the infection

Of hatred and enmity,

Letting the blood of humanity,

Finally,

Flow clean and healthy,

Touching hearts,

Re-building our world

Together,

Living

Technicolor lives,

Fair and free.

Isn’t that why

Lady Justice

Is blind?

Eating It Up…And Loving it

So I decided to challenge myself a little more this year. I’ve been dying to support an amazing author and critique partner by buying and reading her dark series. Why? Because it’s out of my comfort zone and she’s a skilled storyteller. I thought I would admire her talent, but it would be more from a professional or clinical aspect. Instead, I was drawn in.

S. H. Timmins

The way S. H. Timmins understands human nature and how we’re all flawed, but beautiful is amazing. How she finds twisted souls and either finds their matches or helps them discover a complimentary opposite is awe inspiring. And she hammered that lesson home with her second book, Fears in the Dark.

How? How does she do it? 

Ms. Timmins takes dark, wounded, practically feral creatures who have little understanding or appreciation for the things we tend to value and makes us care about them. We want to see them find their version of happiness. We want to see that embracing those things that make us cringe and use it to heal or find peace and acceptance. And love. Just the way they are.

Dark is usually a hard limit for me. But if everyone wrote dark the way this lady does? It just might become my new addiction. 

I thought this one was going to be the hardest read, what with Blake’s tendency towards biting and hints of possible cannibalism in the first book. And to pair him up with a sweet little book shop owner? I scratched my head and wondered…how’s that gonna work? Turns out I was worried for nothing. Hell, these two tortured souls might have even been sweeter than Loki and his Little Cat. 

Either way, this is a can’t miss if you love dark reads! Ms. Timmins is sublime with how she rolls out this world of darkness, and you won’t want to miss it.

So how do you plan on challenging yourself this year? Any personal growth plans? Is there anyone you’d love to show a little love and support to? Any great reads? You’re welcome to share a link in the comments as well as why the person is deserving of a little love!

Spring

photograph by Axel Rouvin, distributed under a CC-BY 2.0 license

photograph by Axel Rouvin, distributed under a CC-BY 2.0 license

Rain drops

like warm tears

trail down

soft skin

the stench of

anger,

removing

grime of failures,

mistakes,

swirl harmless,

back

to enriched earth;

gentle stream,

cleanses

the soul,

healing the spirit,

rejuvenating mist,

reborn.

Face raised,

mind open,

free to let go,

invigorated.

Ready

for the new beginning.

Feminism and Submission: Kinky Coexistence #BOAW2018

In the last couple of years there has been a huge resurgence of attention and activism placed on feminism and women’s rights. We’ve had coordinated women’s rights marches, much more discussion around equality in pay, education, and career opportunities.

Yes, as a group we’ve become loud and proud, creating campaigns like #metoo and “Fight Like a Girl” designed to encourage our fellow woman to speak out and share in solidarity to the female sisterhood.

Even in movies we’ve been a force to be reckoned with….bringing out badasses and heroes like Arya, Khaleesi, Rey and Wonder Woman… and other movies like Black Panther and Hidden Figures where the women were strong, smart, and powerful. And this is all amazing. Really!

But I wonder sometimes if, in our battle for equality and power, we’ve lost some sensitivity and somehow managed to push others in our sisterhood into a deeper closet…made them doubt themselves and their acceptance in our new, fierce world.

Submission in a time where we’re calling on the badass women must be so difficult. I mean, living in the often highly misunderstood BDSM world is already tough. They already get the whole…blah, blah, blah…”abuse”,….blah, blah, blah…”Stockholm syndrome” crap from people with no understanding of the “Safe, Sane, and Consensual” lifestyle.

But now, when we’re talking about powerful women, I’m sure that there are many women fighting against their nature because somehow submission in this new world (not that it wasn’t already there a little bit) might make them seem weak or the ‘unfeminist.’ Or maybe their sisters will think maybe they’re not living up to their gender/power roles and are somehow encouraging female oppression, either silently make them feel like an insult or embarrassment to the cause, or outright say it…because they don’t understand.

And they’d be WRONG!

“A submissive is free to do whatever they desire, whenever they desire. Yet even with all their freedom, they choose to kneel. That is why submission is so beautiful.” ~ Unknown

My first contribution to Beauty of a Woman GirlBoner edition was Sacred Sexuality. At that time, I discussed my thoughts about being both a Christian and kinky. Why do I bring it up? Because I believe there’s something pretty sacred about the power exchange, too. Heck, people like to throw around the “wives submit unto your husbands” verses as a reason NOT to embrace Christianity, but I believe they don’t fully understand (or choose not to) the difference between submission and subjugation. Plus, the scriptures also say submit to each other, so it also doesn’t limit itself as a one way path down a gender specific street. Pronouns CAN be exchanged, in my opinion.

“The idea of submission is never meant to allow someone to overstep another’s boundaries. Submission only has meaning in the context of boundaries, for boundaries promote self-control and freedom. If a woman is not free and in control of herself, she is not submitting anyway. She is a slave subject to a slave driver, and she is out of the will of God.” ~ Henry Cloud

Submission is a physical, emotional, and mental act of consciously and deliberately giving oneself over into the loving care of another. Far from weak, it’s one of the hardest things to do, and only the strongest of soul and purpose is capable of giving up so much trust and placing it into a worthy Dominant’s hands.

“Fight for freedom when someone suppresses you.. Be submissive when someone gives freedom for you.” Shivaranjani Murugesan

I think that probably speaks to the strength, beauty , and power of submission pretty well. It takes a strong, self aware woman to willingly and knowingly walk this path. Isn’t that also what being a feminist is about? Knowing and understanding your needs and fearlessly reaching out and grabbing it? Being a trailblazer on a road less travelled? Knowing your true self and knowing what it takes to make yourself happy, then fearlessly reaching out for it, screw the voice of public opinion?

I mean, there’s something exquisitely beautiful about BDSM… It works because there’s an honesty to the relationship that you won’t find in many places. They realize that no one gets through life without a few wounds and scars, fears and insecurity. And it’s about building such a strong foundation in honesty and communication that you don’t hide the realest, ugliest parts of you. Because somehow, in the give and take that happens in such a surrender, they want those parts of you, too…and help you learn to accept and love even those darker parts of your soul that make you uniquely you. And it’s true on both sides of the relationship.

“I want the parts you’ve tried to throw away. The parts you were convinced no one could love.” ~ unknown

To me, the fearless strength a submissive has…to take their power and willingly, knowingly hand it over to someone worthy…well, if that’s not both powerful woman and feminist, I don’t know what is. It’s scary, sure. Misunderstood by many, absolutely. But true to your inner self? A beacon of strength that leaves many a Dominant in awe and grateful for the amazing gift? How could they not be?

Submissive, please don’t let yourself be stifled, squashed, or afraid because of the feminist message. YOU are the embodiment of EVERYTHING that makes a woman both powerful and a survivor.

Be fearlessly you!

This post is part of The Beauty of a Woman BlogFest VII! To read more entries, and potentially win a fun prize, click HERE. on August’s McLaughlin’s site between today and 11pm PST March 9th.

Sending you all Love and Empowerment!

Lost, Broken, or Hope? Which Are You?

My heart hurts today. I just can’t sit here and say nothing. Am I the only one who feels it lately? All this hate, rage, toxicity oozing out of social media?

Can you not feel its destructiveness to your bones? I can.

There’s already so much pain and desolation and fear in the world. Must we really rabidly spew more hate into it? For the first time in a long time I hid someone’s posts from my Facebook posts from my feed because I couldn’t stand the hate messages wrapped up as “activism” anymore. Every message was filled with vitriol, spewed hate, and fanned the flames of extremist behavior while denigrating anyone who might value something other than what she believed.

I felt sad. Sorry for her. That she was so unhappy and filled with poison and looking for someone to blame. But I couldn’t be in her universe anymore. For me. I couldn’t condone her messages of verbal violence against others. That’s not a solution. That’s not helping make this world better. That’s just more of the horrible cycle of fear and hate and violence.

Listen…

I live in Florida. My heart broke for all the lost young lives. I ache for their families. It hit very close to home. The violence is not ok. I think we all agree on that. Gun control? Maybe it will work, maybe it won’t. I don’t pretend to know. Do I think mental health issues play a big part in the violence of today? Absolutely. Do I think teachers should have to carry guns? No.

Billy Graham, who has been a religious leader to many, also died this this week. He lived to a ripe old age. Good for him.

Death isn’t death. Everyone finds their strength to move on from different sources, faith in God being a big one. So when I see the same people shouting hate comments at political leaders due to gun control laws, then spewing filth, nastiness, and wishing violence on a religious leader, I get sick to my stomach. I begin to wonder just how broken you are to fan more fuels of hate after such a painful week, and I walk away.

I feel sorry for the person, but I forgive them and I leave. Because I can’t be around that. I refuse to believe that the world is so broken and disgusting that it now only filled with rage and hate and finger pointing.

I don’t like people who extol hate and vicious rage. Who fan flames of doubt and violence. I may love you as a person, but it doesn’t mean I like you. Or that I’m blind to a person’s effect.

I guess what I’m asking is this… Have you considered the message you’re sending out into the world? Is it truly representative of the person you are? Are you helping to make the world a better place? What things have been hurting your heart lately? What things have given you hope or joy?

Life’s Too Short

I’m baaccckkkk!

Ok, so many of my friends here noticed my short hiatus turned out not to be so short. And yes. There were a few adventures along the way, but really, deep down, I got stuck again. I somehow found myself living one of my favorite melancholy Manilow songs…

Ok, replace “my woman” with just plain ol’ me (or my inspiration would probably be more accurate) because the other isn’t quite an accurate fit, but you’ll basically get the gist. Once again I allowed myself to get sucked into a career that drained me of some of my most valuable commodities.

Time.

And energy.

And once again it was for people who didn’t even know, understand, or appreciate my personal sacrifices. But that’s in the past.

I took a new job that is not nearly as demanding of my time, nor is it as draining of all my mental capacities. So, despite some personal tragedies along the way that I’m not quite ready to talk about (too fresh), I’m finally getting back to me!

Yesterday was my first time in a long time to post something I’d been inspired to share in quite some time. 1. It was great to be inspired. 2. It was awesome to have time and energy to share. See the theme?

I even got the chance to meet up with a friend for lunch, then brainstorm and information gather from a friend I’ll be using as a resource for my next book! He helped me flesh out characters that would work with the plot line I had envisioned. It felt great!

As always, there’s a song that helped inspire and engage my creativity with this relationship. Apparently it’s from a movie. I’ve never seen it, but the undercurrents spoke to me…

So I’m sorry I’ve been away so long. Hopefully I’ve learned my lesson. I’ve missed you guys. Am I forgiven? What’s new in your worlds?

Q is for Quit

We hear it all the time. 

“Don’t quit.” 

“Winners never quit, quitters never win.”

And generally speaking, I agree. 

However….

There are times when quitting is exactly what we need to do.

  

Quit making excuses. For yourself. For others. It’s easy to do. But it’s not productive. The message sent when excuses are accepted is that you don’t believe the excuse maker is capable of more.

Quit blaming others. Good or bad, it’s your life. Own it. You are the one who has to live with the consequences. 

Quit the people who don’t believe in your worth. You don’t need that kind of negativity.

Quit limiting yourself. Dare to chase your dreams. Don’t settle for anything less than your best.

Quit holding on to the mistakes of the past. Learn from them. Use them as stepping stones toward the future you’ve always wanted.

Quit trying to please everyone. It’s not possible. Do what’s right for you. Real friends will understand and support your decisions.

Quit listening to and/or participating in gossip. Drama tends to create stumbling blocks and cause drama. It develops rifts in relationships, and has a way of coming back on a person. It’s unproductive, a time suck, and generates stress. 

Quit playing down your skills and talents. Be proud of what you bring to the table. False modesty is counterproductive and utter bullshit. There’s a huge difference between being an ego maniac & knowing yourself well.

Finally, Quit living your life for other people. You are the one who will have to deal with the consequences of the choices you make. Not them.

In other words, quit the things that hold you back, hold you down, or hold your self worth hostage. You are worth so much more….

I’m sure you guys can think of other important things to quit that are been ficial, or maybe you’ve quit some of the things I’ve listed and have seen the positive impacts…. Care to share any of those with us? You know what they say… It takes a village. 

Nature of Life

20140414-140724.jpg

When tears,
Unchecked,
Rain heavy
On your heart
While winds of change
Howl mercilessly,
Whipping through,
Against battered soul,
Devastation in it’s wake.

Shattered
Doesn’t have to mean
Destroyed.
Pieces can be
Picked up,
Put together,
Creating something beautiful,
Renewed and stronger.

Roots spread deep
In the fertile soil
Of
Heartache, pain
Love, loss…
Feed your re-growth,
With lessons learned,
Empathy,
Kindness,
Generosity of spirit.

Become
Your own destiny,
Your salvation.

It occurred to me that although this month is National Poetry Month, I haven’t yet celebrated it with one of my own works. Part of it was that I was feeling heart broken. I realized that it was time to use the grief I was feeling over the loss of a friend and the worry over some family and friend health issues toward something more constructive.

So here’s my attempt to redirect the turmoil I’ve been feeling lately. Hope you guys like…

We also lost a childhood friend recently… A guy named David Lamb. He was an artist in his craft….music. He was part of a band called Brown Bird.

May you all feel the warmth of love, friendship, and self reliance. I hope you all see the beauty within yourselves that I see in you. May you reflect beauty and love on your own paths as you walk through life.

Heroes, Mentors and Making Things Happen

“I don’t know what your destiny will be, but one thing I know; the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found how to serve.” ~ Dr. Albert Schweitzer

I’m not sure exactly when the realization dawned; that heroes and mentors were different entities. Not that they can’t co-exist. They can. But they can also be entirely separate of one another.

Me and my hero

Me and my hero

For example, if you were to ask me who my hero was growing up, my answer would have been my mom. In fact, if you were to ask me today, my answer would still be the same. But do I consider her a mentor? No. I look up to her. I love the values she believes in. I hope to be as firm in my faith as she has always been. She’s been through some of the toughest things you can imagine and kept her belief, her joy, and her family together. I hope I inherited her strength.

Of course, being who I am, I looked up the definitions and here’s what Merriam-Webster had to say:

Hero-

: a person who is admired for great or brave acts or fine qualities

: a person who is greatly admired

: the chief male character in a story, play, movie, etc.

Mentor-

: someone who teaches or gives help and advice to a less experienced and often younger person

Strange as it sounds, despite the definition, my teachers were never people I considered to be mentors, either. Although they taught me and I respected them, it was more clinical. Not bone deep…pushing me to grow, encouraging me, and driving me to be more.

Maybe it’s because I was a girl with whom knowledge came easily, but it wasn’t until my late 20’s that I’d ever truly felt challenged…in a good way. I skated my way through most things based on natural ability, charm, a lot of common sense and my own driven nature. Then things changed and I discovered my first mentor.

No longer happy with the career path I’d had for the first 10 years of my working life, I decided to shift from medically related to retail sales. As a sales rep and eventually supervisor, my natural love of and ability to read people made me highly effective. I was quickly promoted up through the ranks into a single location manager role.

Then I was given the opportunity of a lifetime. I had a specialty, you see. I was great at networking and being able to build mutually beneficial relationships in a shared partnership environment. So when my company decided to create a manager position that encompassed 4-5 smaller scale locations (much like a mini-district manager), my boss considered the position designed for me, and a no-brainer. The problem was that there were no guidelines, boundaries or examples because the role was literally just created. It would be a trial and error situation where we figured things out along the way. In commissioned sales, this was definitely not the norm. For the first time, I struggled. My results were inconsistent.

Strangely, through this struggle, I discovered my first mentor. I already knew her. She was my boss. Her name was Ashley. When we sat down for my first performance appraisal I received my first less than stellar score. Frustrated, feeling like I was doing everything I possibly could, I asked her what I could do. She looked me in the eye and said, “I’d like you to work on one thing this year. Hold your team accountable. Don’t let them get away with excuses.” In fact, she took it one step further, and it’s a lesson I’ve never forgotten. She said, “I don’t accept excuses from you, so why are you allowing it from them? When you allow your team to get away with excuses you’re sending them a message. You’re letting them know you don’t believe they’re capable of anything more.”

She didn’t micro-manage me. She didn’t coddle me. She told me the biggest thing she thought would improve my business and let me sink or swim, but she was there to listen and give advice whenever I chose to reach out. In the past it was easy to sway my team to my point of view. I was beside them all day. In this role, my staff only saw me one day a week as I rotated locations. She was right. I couldn’t simply talk to them and be done with it. They needed to know that if they didn’t follow the action plans I rolled out, there would be consequences. I got very good at accountability. My team developed into her “go to” group whenever she needed strong business results regardless of where our company shifted their areas of importance. To this day I look up to her and hold her up as an example of an incredible leader.

Fast forward to today and why I’m telling you this story…..

As many of you know, a little over a year ago I decided to pursue writing seriously. Honestly, when I toyed with the idea in my mind, I had no idea if I had what it took to do this. For all I knew, publishing a book was a pipe dream. Shoot, I’d been writing most of my life but never pursued it because when I was growing up, the only option was New York and, for the most part, you had to know someone/have an ‘in’ to even be considered.

It meant the world to me that my sister and my best friend both told me, “I always thought you should’ve been a writer anyway.” But let’s face it. They loved me. They were biased.

But…a mutual friend was not. When I told her my dreams of writing, she asked what I wanted to write. I honestly don’t think she expected me to say erotica/erotic romance. She surprised me, though. She asked if I had a sample she could read… somewhere around 10,000 words. Suddenly I was terrified. Why? Because she’d already been successful in this field. She’d actually won the Maggie Award. Her name is Kaye Chambers.

Instead of laughing, she took me under her wing and taught me. Sure, sometimes it was the little things like how to properly format Word while writing. Other times it was to tell me that I needed to add more dialogue or that I could be awfully heavy handed when hammering a point home, and that I needed to use the subtlety techniques I used when writing poetry to allude to an idea rather than beat my readers over the head with a mallet.

Here I was, this random person who she barely knew when she reached out a helping hand…but that’s exactly what she did! The thing is, I’ve read her stuff. In fact, I LOVE the way she writes. She’s got savvy, sassy heroines and she writes these amazing opens (something I still struggle with). She creates these entire shifter universes that I think are beyond cool. It blows my mind! If you’ve never read her stuff…check out her girl Sasha, a cat shifter, in Tiger By the Tail. Or read Blood and Destiny. Her book that won the Maggie was Angelic Avenger…also awesome, but very different from the other two. It’s amazing how, sometimes, what you’re looking for is much closer than you realize if you only have the courage to ask.

I reached out with a few questions and she gave me so much more than I ever imagined. She chose to mentor me. She held my hand through my fears. She pushed me to be better. She challenged me to give more than I ever thought I was capable of…

And when I finally pushed that button to publish my first piece, she cheered me on! Her words? “You did all the work. I just gave you a bit of direction and support. You should be very proud of yourself.” With the help and belief of my mentor and the folks who love me, I was able to make my own dream come true.

One day I hope that I can do justice to the faith that Kaye has shown in me, much the way I did for Ashley. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll be strong enough, knowledgeable enough and with enough experience to be able to mentor someone else in this new, exciting world.

What about you? Do you think there’s a difference between a hero and mentor? Who have yours been?

When I Grow Up

Do you remember who you wanted to be when you grew up? It probably changed over the years. But can you remember back to your first dream surrounding the “when I grow up” fantasy? I do.

When I was very, very young I wanted to be a doctor. Even when I’d play war games in the woods by my house (hey, I’m a military brat…what did you expect?), I dreamed that I’d be a doctor and save the world. Once I started school I decided I wanted to be a surgeon…and not just any surgeon. I wanted to be a neurosurgeon. Yes, even at a young age, my dreams were pretty specific. I should’ve known better, though, because my favorite game to play wasn’t doctor. It was Library. In fact, I made check out cards for all my books and made my sister play with me. I even tried charging her late fees, though mom put a stop to that. The other give away should’ve been that I entertained my sister and brothers…and half the neighborhood with my stories and save the world adventures. And when we weren’t doing that, we were acting out fairytales I’d concocted or superhero stories. (I was always Wonder Woman).

Looking back, I think the thrill of it for me was in being able to help someone, to make a difference…to save a life. (It would also explain my whole military surgeon save the world dreams I used to have) I remember being in Jr. High and being so sure that’s what I’d be. But you know what memory most stood out to me? That in 8th grade, one of the local high schools had a little writer’s workshop for potential writers for their literary magazine. Our English teacher was told to select one of her most promising students to attend, as were all the incoming Jr. Highs. There would be a total of 10-15 8th graders. I was her choice.

Still, I was stubborn. I was going to be a neurosurgeon when I grew up.

High school came along. I’d transferred to a different school and moved into a different neighborhood. I was excited when we got to biology because it meant we were going to get the opportunity to dissect something more than earthworms. Unfortunately this was also when my dream died it’s quick, painless death. The time came to dissect. As many of you know from one of my prior posts, dissecting a frog could potentially be a huge problem for me. Thankfully, I was allowed to arm myself with surgical gloves and did okay. The problem? I was bored to death after the first day. I suddenly dreamed of lawsuits based on my OR behavior. I can still see it in my head:

Me: (finishing the first incision) Ok, here, grab the scalpel. You take over.
Surgical Intern: (hands shaking) Am I ready for this?
Me: Sure! You’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.
Surgical Intern: You’re leaving?
Me: Yeah…I’m bored.

Can you SEE where this would be a problem? Yeah…Lawsuits would abound…assuming I even passed medical school.

So there I was, in my early high school career…and already I’d lost my lifelong dream. It was back to the drawing board. I thought about what I liked to do. I talked to my mom and some of my close friends. Mom wanted me to be a journalist…for a local newspaper. Sadly, as exciting as that career would be…it did not sound exciting at all to me. I wasn’t that into current events. My passion was in the past…history.

When a mother and daughter don’t agree on something what usually happens? Yup! We argued. She thought that kind of career would be respectable and safe. (Of course there wasn’t much about journalists being held hostage back then) I argued that it wasn’t “me” and that I’d get bored, much like I had dissecting that frog. She threw up her arms and told me I’d debate anything….and sarcastically said, “maybe you should be a lawyer!”

Boy, did that idea appeal to me. And even as it did, I won my first writing contest. My poem had been chosen as the winner of our “Write the lyrics to our school song” contest. (Our school had been open for 75 years, and hadn’t had a school song) I won a check for $35 and my words were, in fact, turned into our school song by a local composer. He later asked me if I had any Christian poems that I would be interested in sharing that he could maybe convert into hymns. I also had 3 of my poems published in the local paper.

Now I look back and laugh a bit. My destiny should’ve been obvious. Everyone else recognized it while I blindly chased other things… But I’ve wised up. 🙂 I’ve finally figured out what I’m going to do when I grow up…

What about you? How did your dreams evolve? Have you finally figured out what you’re going to do when you grow up?