As a child, I spent almost all of my unstructured downtime writing stories, singing my favorite songs, and playing dress up. Like so many children, I had tremendous creative energy that I unleashed without giving it a second thought.
As I my schooling progressed, even as the focus on my life because increasingly academic, I held onto my creative dreams. I even started college as a theater major. As some point, though, I switched majors, feeling like it just wasn’t practical. Like I just wasn’t good enough.
I continued to write throughout college and my twenties, but something felt missing. Something felt blocked. One way or another, I would pick up supplies for different activities and would-be creative projects, but they would all just sit there.