Dear Old Friend,
It feels strange but wonderful to sit here and let the words flow again. Writing has always been my oldest companion. As a child, I filled notebooks with stories and poems even though my mother thought they were “too depressing.” In sixth grade, my teacher Janet Bono encouraged me to keep going, and from then on I believed I was meant to be a writer.
I chased that dream hard. By high school I had an internship at the newspaper, and ten years later I landed a full-time job there. It wasn’t the fantasy I imagined. The hours were long, the stories were heavy, and the pressure was constant. I covered teacher strikes, grieving families, and breaking news. I cried in my car more times than I can count. There were highlights too: pizza on busy news days, mentors who became friends, and even one of my articles picked up by the Associated Press. Still, the weight became too much. What I didn’t know at the time was that ADHD was quietly working against me. Add in divorce and co-parenting struggles, and eventually I had to walk away.
When I left journalism in 2012, I thought I would keep writing. Instead, I froze. Writer’s block set in like concrete. I registered for WordPress years later, determined to start a blog, but the words never came. Without writing, I felt like I had lost a part of myself.
But here I am now. Older, a little wiser, and finally ready to pick up where I left off. Writing isn’t just about career or deadlines for me. It’s about rediscovering creativity, making sense of life, and finding freedom in words.
So, dear old friend, I’m back. This time I’m not chasing perfection. I’m just showing up. If you’ve lost touch with something you once loved, maybe this is your sign to return to it too.
Because life’s too short to keep waiting.