Driving home from work today, enjoying another day of splendid sun, I allowed my mind to wander. I thought back to a friend’s post on Facebook, where she talked about her favorite flower. I remember thinking it was so unique that I too began to claim it as a favorite. I thought about another college friend who loved white tigers and her lucky number 8. My best friend’s aversion to pop and affection for citrus candies also wound their way into my thoughts. Over the years, I’ve met some amazing people. I’ve been awed and inspired, heart-broken and green with envy. I’ve tried on many of my friends’ favorites to see if they were right for me. I spent many moments acting like me instead of being me. I’ve had phases and jumped on one bandwagon after another. Today it dawned on me that through it all there is at least one thing I can say without a doubt that I’ve always been.
A writer.
I remember penning poems for departing cheer coaches, and pouring my heart out on the pages of letters. In a recent ransacking of the attic, I came across my drivers’ training manual covered with passed notes and professions of undying love. I’m slightly frightened by the thought of what secrets stand to be uncovered when the time comes to sort through my belongings. Yet, there’s something a bit exciting knowing that there are bits of my history tucked in notebooks and journals, tagged in blogs posts and forums.
Approaching home, I thought back to the “I believe…” assignment I once did in college, and decided it was time for a revision. Here’s my attempt to redefine what it truly means to be me.
I believe in
laughing so hard that I cry.
I believe in the power of white chocolate
macadamia cookies and warm coffee.
I’m fantastically fickle.
I believe in dreaming big
and working hard.
I adore surprises.
I believe in my students.
I believe in learning from mistakes,
Shamrock shakes,
and perfectly grilled
rib-eye steak.
I believe there will
one day be a cure
for chronic procrastination.
I hold my faith dear.
I love deeply,
Live passionately,
and long for the day
when my intentions
become reality.
I’m a daughter,
sister,
wife,
mother,
friend,
and teacher.
I’m a writer.
This,
I believe.
This post was written as part of a monthly challenge sponsored by Two Writing Teachers, to encourage writing and community. The goal is to write a Slice of Life entry each day throughout the month of March.
Just terrific. What a lovely personal reflection. Everyone should do it, & periodically, as you have.