I grew up loving to write. I am not sure how, but it was my art before I could even write actual words. I had an audience I would read my “books” to. They were real people who just happened to resemble my favorite stuffed animals.
I went through life never really being too smart. I went to school and did my best but it was never really good “enough.” At least not by my own standards. I did the work but never really excelled at much. I was horrible at any science or math, that was for sure.
I kept doing my best. I had many math tutors that tried their best to teach me but numbers were never something I was interested in. Writing, on the other hand, now that was exciting. There was no actual answer in writing. It could be whatever I wanted it to be. I could go on and on writing about something just because it felt right and I could not say the same about the sciences.
I decided I would study writing in college. And the rest is history. I graduated with honors from grad school and thought I would be rich and famous instantly. Boy, was I wrong… I graduated with a diploma and nothing more or less. All it was was a paper. A paper that left me more confused than ever.
One summer, I had someone I barely knew come to me with a laptop filled with something they hoped would someday be a book. I read about two pages and just knew, this was my chance to live out my dream. This story spoke to me on so many levels that I took it on as a work of heart.
I spent hours, days, and years pouring love into this woman’s story. We sat together, with wine in hand, and had the most fun we had ever had, creating a more coherent version of something that already lived within her soul.
Little did we know what went into publishing a book. We were naive in this book writing journey and that it is what made it all worth it. I took her words and helped her make them into a work of art.
The steps that come after actually writing a book are not to be spoken of. They are not easy. But nothing ever worth it in life ever is.
We had no idea what we were doing, but there we were, with a more polished version of the original draft of this “book.” Little did we know how many more edits, steps and hurdles we would have to go through before reaching the finish line.
Some traumatizing events are often forgotten because of the pain they caused. Publishing a book can be categorized as a traumatizing event. Right when you think it’s all done, it’s not. And the cycle goes on and on until you decide to stop obsessing over it and realize it will never be perfect.
So, we are finally published and printed. I am actually looking at our book right now. It’s on my coffee table cheering me on. It’s telling me to keep following my dreams. It’s telling me that I have more than just one dream and that I am worthy of following them all.
I have yet to find out if this is true, but for now, I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to be a part of something so spectacular. This is more than just a book, it is a movement. It will help people better understand themselves and the mystery that we call love. Without further adieu…
Never stop following your dreams. Even when one comes true, there are many more to come.
Love Deeply and Forever,