I didn’t plan to be a writer. I didn’t major in Creative Writing, Journalism, or English Lit. In fact, my undergraduate degree was in Recreation and my graduate work was in Information Systems and Telecommunications Management.
The fact is, I spent close to three decades trying to work out what I wanted to do with my life. I went from job to job exploring, striving, learning, and always searching for that one perfect job where my gifts, talents, skills, passions, and purpose would fit.
Despite all the change one thing remains: I love to read and write. It’s like breathing. When I read, I inhale. When I write, I exhale. The combination of the two gives me insight I can’t find anywhere else. I love the aha moments, the universal themes, and the life lessons that can be found in just about any situation, be it trauma, tragedy, or triumph.
Which is probably why I landed on memoir and self-help, where I can write about universal truths that are illustrated by something deeply personal. I can dive deep into all kinds of experiences — abuse, divorce, surgery, surgical menopause, cancer, and racial tensions as well as cycling, the gym, food sensitivity, health transformations, road trips, setbacks and comebacks — and pull out the good, the bad, and the ugly. I can add lightness and laughter and find the positive. As I embrace hope and joy and share it with the world, it gets multiplied.