A "writer" on writing...

I'm pondering if there comes a point in your life where you hit a crossroads and realize that it's simply time for a change... I am perhaps there.

I'm not sure if it's the result of my bouts of emotional and physical exhaustion over a span of months, or perhaps it's the milky froth of reality that settles on top after a stirring...

So much of my identity is wrapped in the fact that I'm a writer. To not do this becomes a question for me not of monetary value, but of my value as a person. It is, after all, what I had wanted to be since I was a child. [That, and an actress. An English teacher. A singer, like Amy Grant. And a mom.]

I have lost my spark. I'm not sure how to regain it. The effort required is simply nowhere to be found in this body, or in this heart. Not anymore. I'm tired.

Far gone are the days of SqueezeOC, where although I had my share of setbacks and weaknesses, I produced well-written, creative stories and brought some good ideas to the table. Despite my lack of "face time" and limited capacities being the Mom on staff who did that full-time job with little to no child care support.

Walked away from my fashion writing gig. Not so great at fiction writing; proven that. Wrapping up and then ceasing to take on anymore freelance writing clients. Fate at the Register is pending.

I know that, ultimately, my identity is not in what I do, but who I am...
So here's to embracing that...