I’m going to put words here again. And I’m going to pick up the guitar I bought the eve of our wedding and play it again. To be completely honest with you, the reason I let it hang on it’s hook on the wall for so long, as a 25 year old woman, is because of something that happened when I was 12. I had just learned to play Green Day’s ‘Good Riddance’, my brother’s friend with Crohn’s Disease looked over and casually said, “I see you still suck at playing the guitar”, and walked away. I was devastated. In retrospect, no teenager with a newly diagnosed autoimmune disease should be super accountable for what they say. 

I stopped writing because I became a bit self-conscious of how much I was putting out there. I thought about how many good writers there are who know how to use punctuation correctly, and how many bad writers who screamed into cyberspace with bad data. 

My baby is one the end of this month, and I just finished Anne Lamott’s Operating Instructions. I regret not writing more this year, and I think putting it off any longer, as rusty and uncomfortable as I feel, will only make things worse. 

So before I really dive in, some wise words from Ira, courtesy of my friend Hannah. 


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