I’ve begun to regress back into my 12 year old badass self. It was right around that time that I was doing exactly what I loved. I loved to paint and write. The poems. The drawing. I did it because I loved it. No one had to beg me. It was a choice every single day.
After 12, I slowly started to pull away. I went out with my friends, boy-watching and other hooligan-type activities entering high school. I thought that I was supposed to let my creativity go and that I would never find work in it. My social life and school work were my priorities.
I grew up and now my small social life and my family are my priority. In the past few months my Self has been screaming to pay attention to what you love. I am 39 and dabbling back into the practice of art and renaming myself “The Artist” once again.