I stared at a blank white computer screen for about four days before I typed this sentence.
I’ve always fancied myself some sort of writer.
I remember being ages 7 to 11 and writing tons and tons of stories.
Mind you, they were mostly about heroines who were only children, or who had only one sibling. (The opposite of my childhood, with my 5 little siblings.)
All these stories I wrote as a kid had endings that tied the conflict of the story in simple Disney-esque resolutions.
In college, the papers I wrote had conclusions and endings that wrapped “the whole shebang “ into a nice little bow. Super easy and convenient for my professors to give me an “A”.
And now, I think about being a writer of a blog.
And not just a blog for the sake of writing, but a blog that is meant to discuss a journey—a journey to a healthier body, mind, and probably soul as well.
And because of the nature of my blog and my journey, I can’t always have cute little Disney-esque endings.
Or even concluding thoughts that end with impactful lessons.
For instance, I’ve been REALLY working out since February. And I see no change at all in my body. Sometimes I think that maybe there used to be a cellulite spot on my leg and now there isn’t, but I think I’m really just guessing at this point. If the following Pinterest picture is any indication, then I’m doing something terribly wrong.
So, where do I go from here?