Exploring my voice

Before I even knew how to write, I kept a journal.

It was blue and furry with a big pink velvet flower.

I was four years old when I had my older sister write my first journal entry for me; I told her exactly what I wanted to say to document the story of my older brother giving me my first battle wound. I even included a picture.

There's always been a strong voice inside of me. She's loud, and she talks a lot! She likes to be heard and expressed, and I do that by journaling.

I've always wanted to sit down and write at a cafe for hours.

And everyone's follow-up question is always,

"Write about what?"

Write about life! The circling thoughts, the stories I don't want to forget, and the experiences that have made an impression on me.

But then, when it comes down to it, I always have excuses.

Whether it be imposter syndrome or the basic fear of failing, it remains a dream unacted upon.

Until I met a friend on my Camino adventure who just happened to be a journalist, I told him about my love of writing but pushed it down to nothing more than journal entries.

I am definitely not a writer! I told him. I just keep a consistent journal.

That's writing; he said everyone's a writer.

So here I am, sharing my circling thoughts, stories, and experiences in life.

Exploring my voice.