Wednesday, May 24, 2017

I am a writer.

I am a writer.

I know you're probably reading that sentence and thinking, "Duh, Lyssa Layne writes books. She's an author so of course she's a writer!" But it wasn't until yesterday that it hit me that Now, let me try to explain...

Yes, I write books. I write tragic love stories, sometimes with a happy ending and sometimes not. I spend majority of my free time writing but I never really thought of myself as a writer in the sense of expression. My daughter turned five on May 18 and in the matter of less than a week, we have experienced the endings to many chapters... the last day at our sitter's, the last day of preschool, moving on to kindergarten and leaving behind friends that are younger. We've also celebrated a lot this month... Mother's Day, her birthday, etc...

Now, let me rewind here and say I hate to cry or be emotional. I don't like hugs or being touchy feely. Sometime in the last ten years, my outward demeanor changed and I have lots of ideas as to why but we'll just say that it has. I don't like to verbally tell someone how I feel about them, except for my five-year-old who doesn't understand the sentiment of my words. I would rather write them a card, an email, dedicate a picture and some words than have to say "I'll miss you" or "I'm forever grateful." It's not that I'm too proud to say those things, I'm just awkward with saying it.

Okay, now back to the endings and celebrations... I've posted lots of pictures with lengthy words trying to express my true feelings but it wasn't until I showed my daughter's babysitter what I wrote about her and she started to cry that it suddenly hit me-I'm a writer!!!

Apparently, all these years and I never realized that writing is my outlet! It's how I express what I can't bring myself to verbally say. I know some of that has spilled over into my writing especially in the story Baby, Maybe. Did you know that the majority of that book came straight from my blog/journal I wrote while going through fertility treatments? I write my daughter a letter every year on her birthday then I seal it up and put it in a safe so that I can send it to her when she's older. I also hand write them in cursive so who knows if she'll be able to read them by then!

Once it hit me that I was a writer, I laid in bed thinking back to all the ways I have written over the years... blogs, journals, stories, letters, and the list goes on. It only took my thirty-four years to understand that writing is my way of expressing my emotions. Wow... who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?

No comments :

Post a Comment