Finding Myself

I've spent most of my day, and will probably spend the entire weekend, cleaning my office/craft room. In the past, the craft part of this room was active and kept organized, while the office part lay dormant and unused unless needed for craft or scrapbooking purposes. Since before I was married, I've dabbled at just about everything imaginable: Avon, Stampin Up!, Craft shows and booths where I sold everything from ceramics to tole painting and then some. I've had my hand in writing music, playing the guitar, singing, cleaning houses, selling stuff on ebay, making pot pouri, photography, sewing, quilting, crocheting and much more, all in an attempt to find myself.

Now, that side of the room is a mess, barely recognizable "things" lay scattered about and the office side is alive with activity. Why? Because I'm a writer. I can say that now. I'M A WRITER.


When I was just a child, I could be found curled up under a table or hiding in a closet with a tablet and a pencil jotting down anything that came to my mind. I'd write about my pets, my family and even make up stories about giants and places I'd only been to in my dreams. I always had vivid dreams. But somewhere along the way, someone told me I had to BE someone and DO something with my life, and writing was in and of itself, a fairytale. If I chose that to define my life, I would be nothing . . . a nobody. Unfortunately, I believed them.

So, for years I've searched and struggled and actually gotten pretty good at some things, but they never seemed to fill the void that was slowly getting larger and eating me up inside. It got so bad that I slipped into a self loathing depression that consumed me and my family and left me doubting everything in my life. I felt like I was nothing, like there was no place that I belonged. That is until I went to an LDStorymaker's Conference.

My first one was in 2005. If I remember correctly, it was only their second conference and it was only one day, but they filled that day with great information and excitement about writing. I got to meet Anita Stansfield and made some friends, but the best part was that I found my passion. I remember the long ride home to Idaho and wondering why I'd let someone talk me out of something that meant so much to me. I vowed to never let anyone take that away from me again.

So, why did I mention cleaning the craft area of this room at the beginning of this post. Well, because I'm getting rid of my past. I'm getting rid of everything. Well, almost everything. If I don't think I will need it for my personal use or I haven't used it in a couple years, it's out the door. I have so much surplus and it's time to share. Some will go to friends, some to DI and some to the quilting ladies at the church.

When I'm done, I will post some before and after pics.