Remember Me

I made my first writing.com account in the early 2000s...about 15-18 years ago. That statement alone makes me feel incredibly old. While my original account got purged due to inactivity, I remade this account in 2005. I made one post and then left.

Life has taken me on the craziest of journeys in the last 13 years and I have no written works to shows for it, well at least not many. You see I am writer at heart and always, always have been. So I still write every single day but the writing I do now is in the form of personnel manuals, expanded meeting agendas, brief business email correspondence and facebook comments. Writing is in me, but I let myself lose sight of what I enjoy so much about it.

The last time I made a post here, I was 18 and about 6 months away from getting married and had recently placed my first child with an adoptive family. Today I am married to my third husband (oh yes, I have so much marriage advice I could share it could fill this whole site's cache up in an instant) and raising my three small children. My oldest child is in my life through his open adoption. I am now in my 30s and for the first time in my life, I don't know what I want to be when I "grow up." Funny how that happens.

So last night I woke up late, around 2am to use the bathroom (because after 4 kids my bladder is a sick joke) and grabbed my phone out of habit. I can't remember how it happened, but I decided to regain access my old email from senior year of high school. From there, I found short journal entries I had made in the very early years of my daughter's life.

While taking a 'quick look' into my sent folder I found email exchanges between me and a very old friend, packs, who was part of my positive experiences here at writing.com. I am currently trying to locate him, by his real name, again. Reading emails between packs and I, I remembered how much I loved writing and how I always had this particular way with words that others always appreciated.

Now I have spent many years in fact-based writing so the eloquence of my youth is something that I will need to work to regain, but I do believe it can be done. Afterall, writing is within me.

So here I am, diving back in. I am making a commitment to myself to do this, for myself.