Friday evening, I had a breakdown.

Saturday morning, I realized it was a breakthrough.

For several months now, I’ve felt as if I needed to write a book. Because of the type of goal-setter that I am, I’ve been putting A LOT of pressure on myself to write one. This leads to 3 a.m. wake-ups filled with questions and anxiety. Not helpful.

Friday evening, after a particularly frustrating call with my man, I recognized a long standing habit I have. This habit started with my father and seems to repeat itself through all of my love relationships. It lead me to missing my father, deeply. It lead me to grieving, again, over the loss of him and the fact that I was never able to have the relationship I wanted to have with him. It lead me to the computer where I, again, attempted to begin a book. (This is the third time.) That lead me to becoming severely overwhelmed and frustrated. I finally had to go to bed.

I went back and looked at my old blog. I poured my soul into that blog for 6 1/2 years. During the time I was writing, I had over a half a million views. Some posts have +1’s on Google that are in the tens of thousands. I wrote anonymously. I felt it was the only way I could be authentic.

I don’t want to hide my authenticity anymore. I was hurting when I wrote much of those old posts. I want to revive the posts that were helpful. That is what I am going to do here.

Please be patient with me as I find my voice. A book will have to wait. Being me will not.