A few weeks ago I turned 30. There were a few epic days stirred in celebrating.
I ate cupcakes and shared delighful times with family and friends.
My Dad gave me a blender that makes smoothies to go, I'm in love with it.
I missed my twin sister, we always celebrate the day together in some form.
It's funny how it has taken me 30 years to realize that having someone to share the day with is so much sweeter.
At my birthday party there was a lady reading cards. I gulped and sat in front of her. She said to think of questions. And then she told me me to claim what I am. What I want to do.
She said to get out of the safe zone I have made for myself. To take a chance, because life would be much better that way.
The next day I recovered and drove to the mountains.
I bought a notepad and started scribbling.
I am a writer, I don't pretend to write. It's what I do. It's who I am.
I am a lover of words, a crafter of sentences, and someone who will always be in constant need of an editor.
Now, what will the next 30 years hold?