rediscovering childhood passion

REDISCOVERING a CHILDHOOD PASSION

REDISCOVERING a CHILDHOOD PASSION   Reading was a childhood passion of mine. It was an inexpensive form of entertainment and a way to escape the world of abuse. I read almost any book I could find in my house. As the youngest child in the family, many books were over my head. It did not stop me from reading them! My sister, Linda, belonged to a book club. I enjoyed reading international cookbooks and the classics. Biographies and fiction enthralled me. Years later, I sought out the classics to read them with an adult perspective and understanding. Career counselors and life coaches often ask a client what was his or her childhood passion. What activity did you enjoy as a child? The career counselor or life coach may wonder if a childhood passion might hold a key to a possible career. In my case, reading lends itself to knowledge, insight and enjoyment. I have not found a career of reading! My mother valued reading and education. She was an avid reader who kept a list of all the books she read over the decades. I have many memories of her trying to catch up on a weeks’ worth of newspapers ...
journey as a writer

MY JOURNEY as a WRITER

MY JOURNEY as a WRITER   I am a writer! I write blog posts, letters, notes, and pages in journals. As a young girl, I owned a little diary with a lock and a tiny key. This small diary was filled with the minutiae of my days. I did not write of the awfulness in my household. My diary did not contain secrets like a child’s diary in a healthy home may have. The secrets of my life were too big and too scary. I knew the consequences of putting on paper the secrets of the abuse I suffered would lead to more abuse and punishment. I was an obedient little girl. I wanted to be loved by all – even the abusers in my family of origin. The guilt and shame I felt thinking I was bad and somehow deserved the abuse could not be noted in my diary as a little girl. Of course, at that age I did not have much insight into my life yet. I only knew that I kept getting abused and hurt by my family members and others. They told me I was bad and worthless. I believed them. As a girl in ...