I wrote my first novel in the 7th grade.
I wrote it in overly girly, bubbly letters that reeked of pubescent angst and the 10 minutes of Beverly Hills 90210 I was allowed to watch before my parents disapproved and changed the channel to your regularly scheduled wholesome programming.
I think I was the popular girl in my novel—those girls we long to be until we grow to realize popularity is the converse of ingenuity, and uniqueness is the essence of your beautiful and wonderful self.
And though, in my senior year of college, my creative writing professor singled me out in a class full of hopeful talents and said ‘You will have a book out one day’, I ventured into the corporate world instead. A world of (my own) false-enthusiasm, due-paying, and ladder-climbing—of constant waiting for one’s permission to be my most awesome self.
At 24, I felt undervalued, unfulfilled, and exhausted.
At 24, I wanted to be unpopular—to leap into ‘self’ mode and make a life complete with creative hours instead of dragging through the expected 9 to 5. I wanted to write. I wanted a business of my own.
But ‘wanting’ and ‘willing’ are two entirely different creatures, and life got in the way.
My husband and I relocated, started having children, and I stopped working altogether in order to be with my children and obtain my MBA. My kids are two years and two months apart, mere babies, and consumed my entire day. I completed my schoolwork between the hours of 8pm and ‘however late I could keep my eyes open.’
It’s so easy, as women, to get lost in our every day obligations and forget ourselves. It’s so easy to disregard those creative longings and talents, to put off those 7th grade novels and plays.
It’s so easy to forget that being a wife and mother doesn’t mean forfeiting who you are and everything you want to become.
After graduating in December 2010 (with a 3.4 GPA, I might add–huzzah!), I knew it was the chance I needed, and ‘I want’ turned into ‘I will.’ I started decorating cakes, refurbishing furniture—anything where I could be creative, learn, and build a business.
And while I’m a great cake decorator, and restored dilapidated furniture into gorgeous pieces, the part of each that made my whole heart happy was writing about it. It always comes back to writing.
In February of 2012 I launched blah3 (blah cubed), a copywriting business for women entrepreneurs. So often women push their talents to the side; ignore their creativity and pursue more traditional means of employment. They feel unfulfilled. Clarity is golden—be clear about who you are and what you want, and use your talents to make a life that gets your heart all a-flutter.
I write because I believe in women, their awesomeness, and their ability to support one another—and those overly girly and bubbly letters that started it all.
Your talents matter. Let’s use ‘em!