I can remember when I first began my book, both my sisters questioned what I was doing. They said, ‘you aren’t a writer, focus on fashion’. I didn’t listen obviously. We can be anything we want to be. Scratch that we do not need to define ourselves by titles. I do the thing that attracts me and makes me feel alive. I enjoy writing, why not publish a book. It doesn’t matter if anyone reads it because ultimately it is important to take action for our enjoyment and not approval.
If you want to write a book then do it. Message me and I will tell you how I did it. For sure it is not perfect and I love my run on sentences. But I stayed true to my message. I wanted to paint the picture of an honest pursuit of a dream reflecting and entertaining with the sadness and madness of my own adventure. I may have offended, disappointed but ultimately I wrote what was in my heart.
Time to move on keep and keep pushing the limits to what the next turn brings me. I am a far different girl than the one that began this journey 2 years ago. I am broken, scarred but most importantly I own the right to be truly me. Time to write the next book, for the journey next ends. It only takes on a new shape with new obstacles and challenges. I am breaking myself into accepting this reality. Easing up in my apprehension and leaning into the fear.