Posted in goals, hope

Writing a story I want to read

Yesterday was my birthday, and it’s fall, and right now life feels like it has the potential to be a brand new, sparkly chapter.

My previous chapters have been about learning and about getting by. Chapters about self-loathing and all the boys it didn’t bring back. Pages with my face pressed up against a mirror as I cry because I knew it was my prerogative to have my own back, to carry myself through. There’s a chapter when real love shows up in two forms: first, from a big-smiled, curly-haired, beautiful man; and second, from within.

Next, I want a chapter where my devotion to writing grows and, alongside it, so does my devotion to living a full life. To living as the person I want to be. A person with passion that outweighs tired.

If we’re all in charge of building our own story, I want mine to be fulfilling and inspiring and exciting. I don’t want page after page of monotony, of dissatisfaction, of means to an end. It’s so easy to get stuck in day-to-day life without realizing it. To feel content and peaceful (if not infatuated) with a routine life and so to never try for something more. And I think that’s where I’m at right now. But I want to be infatuated with every day.

To me, this feels like a more befitting time to make resolutions for the coming year. And, writing them down in a public place might make me more accountable, so here’s what I got: Spend more time outdoors and less time online. Read more poetry. Try some new things. Travel as much as possible. Write as much as possible. Get in touch with my intuition. Be present but always moving towards my dreams.

If you have stories of how you got out of a rut or how you chased down your dream and made it come through, I would love to hear them. Please, share. 🙂


Yogi. Bibliophile. Avid pet instagrammer. Foodie. Full of wonder and wanderlust. Searching for my True North.

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