I never thought that I would be a writer.
It was a fleeting dream I had as a schoolgirl. A dream that was extinguished by external expectations, parental pressure and a self-image that was a work in progress. Cue 2020 when like many, I was afforded more time to reflect and be honest with myself. Out poured the poems, the spoken word, the short stories, and the hunger for creativity.
Life is a work in progress. Writing helps me to navigate life. Perhaps my words will stir something inside you; a long-forgotten passion, an overdue conversation with self or maybe they will move you to nod in recognition. And that is enough for me.
We all crave connection. I know connection isn’t a commodity. It can’t be bought or sold but it can be identified, felt, discovered and nurtured.
Connection is a sibling to belonging and they’re both children of trust and care.
Connection can encourage and support others to look at things differently, see things from another perspective and maybe inspire courage for action.
And actions cause ripples and ripples are change. Change from our own hands and not from those that have hands upon us.
There’s power in authenticity. In community. In us truly seeing each other. It can start with a few shared words. And that’s my offering to you.
