Life is different now. I hesitate to say how. I will say I was hospitalized in June for 8 days. 8 slippery bananas on the Mario cart track that was my life. Spin, spin. That era is no longer. It will change again soon… I hope. More on that later.
I’m in the fall issue of Oh Reader magazine. It hit shelves at the very end of last month. Hooray? Yes, although I’m second guessing the strength/content of my article. Rather late for that. But such is this life. If I felt sure of myself all the time, would I even be a real writer? I feel like the self doubt, oddly, makes me less of a fraud. Or rather, less delusional and therefore capable of growth.
Life has included a lot of trips to the library and my favorite local coffee shop (and roastery!) - also submitted an application for a writing fellowship. Over 900 women entered so this is looking like a sure thing (obvious sarcasm) but the samples of writing I submitted could easily be recycled. Plus - “done” is the new “good.”
Yesterday was a Sunday of heaviness and self doubt. It dragged. I must remember that I was lucky enough to once be the soft, solid outcome of someone’s prayer. I forget that sometimes. It’s late now - after midnight. I’m melatonin drunk and ready for fall.
Sleep? Okay.
Your article "Still Matilda" in Oh Reader magazine resonated with me on such a deep level that it brought happy tears to my eyes. Like Matilda and yourself, I experienced challenges and trauma at a young age, and I also found solace and strength in her story - both the book and the movie. I used to wish for special powers every night, hoping they would shield me from the difficulties I faced. Reading this article felt like a warm embrace, validating my childhood experiences and dreams. It reminded me of the words I would long to share with my younger self if I could travel back in time, words of comfort and encouragement that echo the beautiful message in your article's final paragraph.