When I began this quest of writing a book, I had no idea how lifechanging it would become. I knew I always wanted to write a book, but didn’t quite know what topic to choose. But after the brainstorming sessions I went through early on (see my earlier postings), it became apparent that I wanted to write about becoming me.
Many things occurred in my life over the past year. I ended a two and a half year relationship that had eroded my confidence. I took a six month sabbatical from an exciting job that I continually struggled with internally. I left New York City, a city where I came out in my 20s but left me without purpose when I moved back at the beginning of 2017 for my big job promotion. So I followed my passion and set out to travel the world – not really sure if I was running away from or running toward something.
When I set out to travel the world last October 30th, one month ago this past week, I felt like a lost puppy dog. Not really knowing what to do or how to feel. But I knew that I wanted to find my happiness again. I wanted to find my confidence. I wanted to find where Cory had gone to. I wanted to find me.
I traveled back to the United States from Tibet and Nepal to visit my family for the Fourth of July holiday this year. It was so great to be back with my family again. Fun in the sun at my mother’s house on the lake. It was exactly what my soul needed after traveling since November. I was ready for hamburgers and hot dogs and to sleep in the same bed for a couple weeks in a row. And only a few weeks prior to my return, I had decide to embark on this new writing journey.
My mother’s house has a beautiful patio that looks out over a lake. The lake is calm, quiet and peaceful. This spot became the perfect place for me to begin writing my book. After I meditated in the stillness of each morning, I would look out over the still lake and think back through my life. Images would flash before my eyes of the past thirty nine years. It was like my life’s movie would play before me. Laughter. Sadness. Tears. Feelings of being scared. Feelings of being on top of the world. Proud moments. Not so proud moments.
But I was ready to write. I began writing stories about my upbringing and my childhood. Many happy moments but also many deeply emotional stories that I have held onto that have shaped me into the person I am today. And I would transition into my college years and then into moving to New York City for the first time.
I would write about relationships. And how I really wanted relationships, or at least that is what I thought at the time. I would write about my feelings. I would write about feeling successful. And also question if I really felt successful or if it was just feeling what I felt I was supposed to feel. I would write about my jobs and how I felt this career is the path I felt I should be on. But maybe that it was the path that others wanted me to be on and a path I didn’t really want to be on.
I would have calls with my book coach about my writing. He was very impressed and would tell me that I was an excellent writer. Its funny, because I have never felt that I was a good writer. I can remember in my last job at PepsiCo that I would be required to write a 10-page strategy document and it was very painful for me to write. I made attempts but my writing was awful. It never flowed. It was never comfortable to do. But I soon realized it was forced writing. It was non-passionate writing. I was not connected to this type of writing in any way.
But now, I was writing about me. I was writing about what I was passionate about. I was writing about my deep feelings and emotions. I was writing about something I deeply cared about. Maybe I am a good writer? My book coach encouraged me to keep writing even when I had moments of doubt.
I began to notice quickly that my writing began to give me some confidence. The writing process was almost like therapy for me. I would write about these topics that I hadn’t really brought up in a very long time. The topics would be associated with so many emotions that I have experienced throughout my life. And I could feel a slow shift happening within me. I could feel that I was really figuring out who I was. And it wasn’t like I haven’t known who I was, but it was more of finding the “me” that I had lost.
I can remember many times during the writing process that tears were flowing down my face. Sometimes tears of sadness but many times tears of joy. Experiencing feelings of breaking through. Breaking through to a new me.
It was incredible to watch before my very own eyes that I was transforming through my writing. It was like I was tapping into a part of me that I had never found. A part of me that I just had unlocked. Like a level of a video game that you have tried to unlock for a long time and you have finally unlocked it by conquering it. I was healing before my own eyes. I was healing through writing.
NEXT UP: STEP 6: MY WRITING ROAD TRIP
Here are the links to previous articles in the series in case you missed them
STEP 2: WHAT THE HECK DO I WRITE ABOUT?
STEP 3: FINALIZING THE ANGLE, BUT STILL NOT SURE…
STEP 4: STARTING TO WRITE MY BOOK…BUT JUST WRITE, DON’T EDIT
