So, here it was sometime around 2008 – 2009, I started getting this feeling that there should be more to life. I was working a solid job that had the potential to turn into a good career with benefits, promotion, and money (everything I was taught work should be). But something was missing… and for around the next ten years, I went searching for that missing piece – following countless dead end leads and on occasion thinking I found the answer, only for it to be a short-term distraction.
I was in my late twenties. I had an awesome boyfriend. We had a great relationship; we were more honest than most of the couples we knew, we communicated, and we actually enjoyed each other’s company. We had a good set of friends. We spent our weekends going out to dinner or drinking and visiting new places. We were having a lot of fun. And how could you not have fun in Florida… there was so much to do all the time.
In the back of my mind, I thought maybe this sense of longing was because I wanted more from my relationship with James. I wanted the whole relationship package – the marriage, kids, the house – all of it. I had convinced myself that being in the exclusive relationship and living with each other was enough. After all, marriage was just a slip of paper, a legal document and a tax break, but deep down I wanted all of that. I didn’t want to push the topic of marriage or engagement as James was still healing from his past relationships and at the time he didn’t want children. Things were good between us and who was I to push for more. So, in fear of losing what I had, I convinced myself that things were great exactly how they were.
So, I kept searching for that one thing that would quench this feeling. It was around this time that an insanely popular young adult book series was being adapted as films. I had never read them and a friend loaned me her copy. I zipped through them and begrudgingly, I really enjoyed them. The writing was simplistic and the story, despite it’s many plot holes and absurdities, held my attention. Those books opened a whole new door to me, one I had never really envisioned.
After that, writing stuck into my mind. I had always enjoyed reading and when I was younger I used to write short stories, comics, and even tried my hand at a novel, but I gave it up in pursuit of hobbies that were of better use of my time convincing myself I was not good enough to write. For a number of years, I had kept a journal off and on to catalogue events and my emotions and I realized how much I enjoyed the time I spent writing. So, I decided to pick writing up as a hobby and started crafting the first short story I had written since I was fifteen.
Up until I had rediscovered writing, I felt like my life was purposeless and I was just floating from day to day with no meaning. Suddenly, after picking up writing, I had found a purpose and life was fulfilling… until it wasn’t.
A Mother's Special Calling 