The further I transition out of my old life, the closer I return to myself. I heard somewhere from someone that your 30s are really about your undoing. Undoing all the decades of programming that kept us away from our own intuition. I wrote this raw reflection the day I typed the last sentence of my first novel which was on October 31, 2023. I was consumed by a tidal wave of emotions bubbling below the surface since 2021 when I started to write the story that I decided to let it out through writing. Since then, I have slowly started to be more open about this new chapter in my life.

Nonetheless, I invite you, gentle reader 😉, to join me on navigating my authorship journey for my first book. I plan to share my process along the way and, when it is ready, sections of my novel. 

Today, I finished my first book! I feel a flutter in my chest, and tears won’t stop coming from the genuine joy I feel about working on something for hours almost every day for the past year and a half.

There’s a sense of what now? I know the following steps, but the fear of letting others into my deep, inner imaginative world feels incredibly vulnerable, like showing up to church in a bathing suit. Everyone will stare, and regardless of how much I try to hide, everyone will cast their judgment.

There’s also relief. So much relief. I have been talking about writing a book since I was seventeen years old. I remember sitting on the hood of my car, parked in a private street where the mansions that were etched in Piesta Peak Mountain (formerly known as Squaw Peak) reside. Overlooking the night lights of all the buildings in the valley flickering. It was like looking down at thousands of stars and being on top of the cosmos. 

I was with my friend. I never had a brother but always wanted one. Growing up, I gravitated toward protective brotherly figures. I was grateful for our supportive conversations, during which we dreamt of life outside of Phoenix.

I remember telling him while we sat on the hood of my car that I wanted more from life. I wanted to get paid to write. 

Ever since I was a little girl, I have loved to read. I was attracted to scary, mystery, or crime stories. R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps and his babysitter thriller novels were my go-to at my elementary school library. I still remember my mom gifted me the Goosebumps collection set for Christmas, and it was and still is my favorite gift she has ever given me. It made me feel supported in ways she failed to verbally express.

I grew up in an unpredictable, violent home, with my mother’s life constantly threatened. It’s no surprise to me why I found solace in these stories. It was my dysfunctional comfort. My nervous system became accustomed to living in fear. When we finally left my father’s house, I started seeking that dysfunctional comfort in other ways. Sadly, this was probably the safest one. 

So, I would sit down in a knockoff Apple Desktop computer my mom somehow could find and afford in our one-bedroom duplex’s living room that also served as my bedroom and wrote short stories every week for my 5th-grade class. I would print, staple them, and hand them out. Ms. Areola, I’m sorry we all made fun of your last name, but thank you for letting me do this.

Even now, as I experience incredible joy for finally finishing a twenty-plus-year-old dream, I feel guilty for not continuing to pursue a career that does not serve my community. Deep-rooted Catholic guilt taints everything, even if it’s just slightly. There’s still confusion about how my professional experience and career will intermingle with this new path I have set forth.

Even as a Clinical Social Worker, I found my way into writing. Still, my soul craved the unleashing of my creativity instead of adhering to the deadlines and professional jargon I had to cite. 

Chasing your passion is also not encouraged as a First Gen oldest child of immigrants. The message I constantly received was that education and/or marriage is the only way. A duty to my family, my community, and if there’s time at the end of the day, then to myself.

I hope that I can show my kids that there are many ways to live their lives and that they should always chase their creative flutter if that is what calls to them.

 

Thank you for witnessing me with grace <3