Who am I? Really, who am I and what is my purpose?
Don’t we all want the answer to that question? I find myself aimlessly asking that question more and more with each passing year. Another drop of the ball on New Year’s Eve and still I am wondering, who am I?
When I was a young girl, probably around the age of 7 or 8, I was overcome with a deep sense of purpose. Not that I knew my purpose in life, rather I knew deep down in my gut that I had a purpose. I just knew I was destined to do great things and vividly remember this being the first time I had that feeling of “butterflies in my stomach”.
For a long time I carried that feeling of anticipation around with me like an excited child unable to sleep on Christmas Eve. Eventually, I resigned to the fact that I had to go through the growing up stuff first before I would be lead down my destined path of “purpose”.
At that young age, I already knew my path didn’t involve being a musically inclined child prodigy nor would I jet set off to California to star on the Brady Bunch as a favorite cousin. But still, I held onto the feeling that ran through my core from head to toe, I had a purpose and I was destined for greatness.
I do believe this was my first memorable God moment.
Stop right there! Please don’t roll your eyes at me and call me a Bible thumping, holy roller with your finger hovering over the exit button just because I mentioned God in this story.
While I did grow up in the Catholic church, (which I left, came back, left again and came back again) my relationship with God is not something I force upon others and I am not here to evangelize anyone. Just know that I have a relationship with God and I will talk about him from time to time like I would talk about any other relative in my life. Wait, don’t take that the wrong way, I won’t be trash talking Jesus.
Back to the burning question, who am I?
Little did I know that growing up would put me on a path much like the yellow brick road. Twists, turns and detours while being completely surrounded by incredible beauty and meeting so many amazing people along the way.
My path took me from coast to coast. Lost. Scared. Curious. Cautious. Happy. Sad. Joyous. Courageous. Heartbroken. Crying. Smiling. Laughing. Loving. Angry. Brave. Forgiving. Confused. Found. No flying monkeys.
Still I ask, who am I?
Sure, I can easily pick myself to pieces, expose my faults and weaknesses, dwell on my self identified body flaws and tell you who I am NOT. Isn’t negative self talk normal? It is normal for me.
Reality check. I know for sure, without a doubt, that I am not an Instagram influencer, Facebook famous or a YouTube beauty guru. To be honest, I can’t keep up with all the social media outlets and the endless oversharing of the latest “must have” Amazon products that are delivered to my door within hours, sometimes seconds, of the money leaving my bank account.
Like a Naval ship headed to war, this blog is about to take a major turn into some choppy waters. Of course, I am still going to carry on with DIY show and tell stuff because “I have an idea for an easy project” are Bill’s favorite words. I fluently speak his love language.
I am going to focus on filling up this little blog with my random thoughts, poetic lacking words (some inappropriate words too) and shamelessly share my story without following blog etiquette or the rules of character count and professional, magazine worthy photos.
Doesn’t that sound so rebellious and yet, intriguing at the same time?
Basically, in a nutshell, I am going to incorporate more real life into my posts as I document my year long journey of self discovery. You’re welcome to join or click that exit button but I am doing this for me, not you. #sorrynotsorry
So, who am I?
Today, I am a writer excited to journal and digitally scrapbook my way back to finding those butterflies once again.
P.S. Eating more pizza and feeling less guilty about it is my goal for 2020. Happy New Year.