A new year is well underway! I am so excited to be in 2014. This year, I want to laugh more with my boys, get fit, write more consistently, and speak about storytelling. These goals sound simple enough—but when I really think about what it will take to follow through, I feel a little terrified.
The voices creep in:
You can’t write. No one wants to hear what you have to say. You’re not a warm, fuzzy mom. You’re lazy. You don’t have time. Your body is too far gone. Your spelling makes you look incompetent. You aren’t fun or entertaining. Maybe something is wrong with you.
It’s the past that haunts me most. As a storyteller, every time someone finds a mistake in my writing, I feel pulled back to childhood—sitting in a classroom, being corrected in front of everyone, feeling small and incapable. I remember thinking my sister was the writer, the funny one, the entertainer. And as a mother, I replay my own shortcomings like a film I can’t turn off.
But this is a new year. And in 2014, I am choosing to remind myself that the past does not define my future. I need to speak truth to myself.
Here are a few truths I’m holding onto this year:
I do not have to be a “good writer” to be a good storyteller. I started this blog to capture stories for my boys. They are growing up quickly, and I feel the urgency to share what’s in my heart with theirs while I still can. They don’t care about perfect spelling or grammar—but they will care if they never hear the end of a story. That is what matters.
Storytelling connects me to my boys. Even on the hardest days, if I tuck them in and tell or read a story, then at least the last thing we shared was something good. Sometimes we laugh. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we reconnect. That is what I want them to remember—that they are loved.
I also believe there are others out there who hesitate to tell stories because they don’t see themselves as writers or storytellers. My hope is that they discover what I have: that the benefits far outweigh the risks. Storytelling has been a balm, a bridge, and a thread that ties me to my boys.
So this year, I’m choosing not to let old voices hold me back.
If you enjoy the stories I share, that is a gift to me. And if my imperfect spelling and grammar show anything, I hope it’s a willingness to be real and to share anyway. Maybe it will even encourage you to tell your own stories to your children.
You might be surprised by the truth you discover.
Happy Tales!
Kristen
