I’ve decided that I‘m going to write a book. A memoir. I already have two possible opening lines.
1) “For as long as I can remember, I have been living a double life.”
2) “I truly believe that I wasn’t born being ‘gifted’ at anything.”
I definitely have good reason to consider both of these statements, and if I continue to blog, I may flesh the book out right here. My life has definitely proven both of those comments to be true. (More to come on its content)
This is not a New Year’s Resolution, but a decision I’ve been pondering for quite some time. With technology the way it is today, you can have just about anything immortalized for generations to come. So if no one but my granddaughter ever reads it, I’ll be totally fine with that. I just want to write down the story of my life. I’m proud of my story, and I think she will be too.
I’ve done some really amazing things in my 46 years thus far. Truly amazing. But the amazing parts will only be the icing. I told my daughter about the book plan tonight and she said, “I know you’ve done some really cool things in your life, Mom, but you know you have to write about the bad stuff too.”
My thoughts exactly.
The bad parts ARE my story. The amazing parts never would have happened if the bad hadn’t happened first.
I’m a bit hesitant to put in writing things that could offend some who are close to me – and it will – but I have to believe that only the right people will actually see it. I don’t think I’ll be published any time soon. I’m also a little nervous because if I’m committed to writing about the bad, it’s very personal. My friendships have always been sort of based on, “Well…this person knows that about me, and that person knows this about me, but no one knows it all.” Deep dark secrets have been less shared than rationed. Laying myself out like that for my daughters will be somewhat humbling.
But what if this turned into a family tradition? What if my daughter decided to do the same, and my granddaughter, and generations from now our descendants had volumes of family history to ponder? How I wish I had that from my grandparents, great-grandparents, etc. I can only hope that I follow through with this, and that it becomes something worth reading to those that I love.