A Day in the Life of an Author

I started today with a sense of dread, bracing myself to continue the monotony of a full time student, mother, wife. Wanting instead to hide from the world. I know there is nowhere to hide from these things. They are apart of me.

They are part of my identity.

I wonder sometimes who I would be if it weren’t for these layers. Without the roles that shape how others percive me to be. Who is the person underneath? The person that slips under the shadows of others expectations?

Who am I? Who are you?

Will we ever really know who we are or what we are meant to do?

I have been told that if I am a writer then I had to stop referring to myself as an “aspiring” writer. Hence, the shift in the title. I am not going to go back and change the first post… I want to leave it as a symbol. A marker of the moment when I decided to stop becoming a writer and instead be one.