As a little girl I was quite the dare-devil, living to take risks, being “rough and tumble”, brave and reckless. Alive. Free. Daring.
Naturally with all those risks came a few bumps and bruises along the way. Like the time I wrapped my hand around the blazing hot muffler of the riding lawn mower! Of course, that was right after my Dad told me not to touch it. Or the time I showed off to the neighbors by doing back flips in the front yard, only to break my arm.
My childhood years, filled with danger, fun and excitement came to a screeching halt when I abruptly banged into puberty. Painfully self-conscious, easily intimidated, slowly taking less risks. What would others think? Would I look stupid? My head space buzzed with “shoulds and shouldn’ts”.
Somehow, albeit not gracefully, I managed to escape those years thanks to my faith, some amazing mentors and therapists, a loving family and lots of healing. Eventually I reconnected with that little girl and let her fly.
And, well, here I am. A 40-year-old therapist, mother of two amazing kids, a wife, a daughter, a sister…about to take another risk and begin a blog!?! Of course, my 13-year-old girl wonders if I have anything really relevant or meaningful to say. Why would people want to read my ideas?
But hey, that’s where the magic happens, right? And besides, that little girl, she’s ready to jump! Excited. Alive. Feeling Brave.