“If we knew each other’s secrets what comforts we would find.” – John Churton Collins
Sunday seems like a perfect day to confess.
- I kinda hate blogging. (But I already told you that.)
- I really hate social media.
Even though blogging is bothersome to me these days and social media feels like the bane of my existence I still secretly want to be a famous influencer.
Last year I wrote a book and the manuscript is literally collecting dust in my home office.
I haven’t self-published my book or tried to get a book deal because the manuscript is not the book I want to write. It’s the book I’ve been told I should write.
Even though I’ve had articles and essays published in anthologies, newspapers, magazines and on websites and I’ve had poems and short stories published in literary journals I still don’t feel like a real writer simply because I haven’t published a book.
I used to be a poet.
I sometimes miss being a poet.
I was diagnosed with lupus more than 10 years ago but have yet to blog about it.
- Lately, I can’t write about my faith because I feel closer to God at a poetry reading or a Beyoncé concert than I do at church.
- I’m fully aware of the fact that, once again, my body image issues are hurting my writing and blogging career but I have no idea what to do about it because I am terrible at taking my own advice.
- I can’t figure out how to be a great writer and a great teacher even though people have been balancing these two professions for centuries.
- Sometimes I feel as if everything I write, everything I teach, and everything I do is meaningless.
- 2018 has kinda sucked.
- Despite all the disappointments I’ve faced this year in both my personal and professional life I am still hopeful that 2019 will be my best year yet.
What do you have to confess?