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A Horse, Stories, and a Commitment.

March 3, 2018

Horse love

I didn’t have to speak; the mare read the stories in my eyes and she just knew. I fed her carrots and we talked without words while the sun set over the Kansas sky.

She sensed my struggles: stressful situations with the kids, a recent breakup, my scary basement, taxes, anxiety over several things beyond my control, and the general malaise and feeling of failure caused by parenting.

I was writing in my head. I’m always writing in my head, with Fear sitting next to me, grabbing my arms, leaning close, and whispering wickedly in my ear:

“You don’t have anything worthwhile to say.”

“Look out, you never know who might be reading this…”

“No one blogs anymore, anyway.”

“You’re not a real writer.”

Well, fuck that shit. I’m here to write. And though I may not be able to share my kids’ stories (those are for them to tell someday), I have plenty of my own.

I’m reminding myself that writing is a practice, like anything else. If I don’t practice, I won’t get better. I will stagnate. Just as I return to the barre to work out several days each week, stretching my legs and easing into a split (no way, just kidding, I can’t do a split! But maybe one day?), I will come back here and tell my stories.

I am committing myself to one story (or something) a week. It should be an easy enough goal. Like old school blogging. I miss that connection, the way things were. I don’t even know if it exists anymore. Regardless, it’s something I need to do for myself. I don’t care if anyone reads it.

This is something I have to do for me.

Because I’m a writer.

Filed Under: Musings

Comments

  1. Andrea Bates says

    March 3, 2018 at 2:09 pm

    Yes you are.

    This is beautiful and perfect.

    • Erin says

      March 3, 2018 at 6:43 pm

      thank you for reading, friend. <3

  2. IASoupMama says

    March 3, 2018 at 2:54 pm

    Welcome back, love.

    • Erin says

      March 3, 2018 at 6:42 pm

      xoxo, C. Thank you for coming over here to read!

  3. Lori Paquette says

    March 3, 2018 at 3:09 pm

    Yes you are. And always will be <3

    • Erin says

      March 3, 2018 at 6:42 pm

      I hope you’re right, mirror friend. xo

  4. Rene says

    March 3, 2018 at 4:12 pm

    Welcome back! Enjoy yourself & write

    • Erin says

      March 3, 2018 at 6:42 pm

      Thank you so much!

  5. Anon says

    March 3, 2018 at 5:20 pm

    Is there sex after divorce?

    • Erin says

      March 3, 2018 at 6:42 pm

      YES! And it’s amazing!

  6. Erin says

    March 3, 2018 at 5:41 pm

    I’ve been wanting to come back to blogging. My voices say the same thing. Thank you for sharing. I really needed to read this today

    • Erin says

      March 3, 2018 at 6:43 pm

      I hope you will return to blogging, too! Let’s do it together?

  7. Kristi Rieger Campbell says

    March 3, 2018 at 9:05 pm

    So glad you wrote. I miss old-school blogging, too. But write once a week. So it’s something? And welcome back. xo

  8. Patrick Kearney says

    March 4, 2018 at 11:07 am

    So much of what you said in the six synced blog post is racing through my mind daily. I admire your tenacity, and I’ve committed to do the same in my life. Thanks for the great work.

    • Patrick Kearney says

      March 4, 2018 at 11:08 am

      Succinct. Editing my writing is tedious. HA!

      • Erin says

        March 4, 2018 at 11:45 am

        part of my problem is I edit as I am writing my posts…I need to stop that
        because it gets longer, more tedious, and the perfection kicks in. Ugh.

    • Erin says

      March 4, 2018 at 11:24 am

      I had a feeling you meant succinct! 🙂
      Tenacity is hard with so many things going against me.
      But I’m really getting back to it. Even if it’s shit.
      I mean, of course it’s going to be shit. Everyone has to write through
      the shit, even the most seasoned authors. Or this is what I tell
      myself. 🙂

Who is Erin?

I’m a mama of twin girls plus one. I’m a writer, an editor, and social media manager for hire.

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