From my journal. May 9, 2019.

Eleven-year-old me looked in the mirror and said, “I’m going to get out of here. I’m going to go to college and be a teacher. I’m going to have a different life.”

Ages 10 and 11 was the height of my sexual abuse. I was obviously a planner – I have thought over the years about 10 and 11 year old Kelly, why she didn’t tell anyone about the alcoholism and varieties of abuse, why she chose to plan for the future instead.

But that was the 80s and I was an Army brat, living on a base in the middle of Germany at the time – people didn’t talk about stuff like that. But I did get out and I was a teacher and I am having a different life, stopping cycles of abuse.

Last night I went to a reading at Literary Arts, and I saw my writing-and-soul-sister friends, some I haven’t seen in months. We talked about how we were doing vs what (keeping up on each other on FB is for the “what”), and I surprised myself with my honesty (I don’t have the energy for anything else).

“I’m feeling a bit lost,” I said. “Personally. Professionally. But not in a negative way. I feel at peace about it.”

This morning, with this “eleven-year-old self” reflection, it makes sense. I’ve always planned my way through the hard stuff (twss), known where I was going, what I was doing. Had an end goal – or set of goals – in mind. Stuck to a schedule and regimented routines and did “all the right things.”

That’s not how any of this works. At least, not anymore.

This is the first time in my life where I simply do not have a plan.

In my mind’s eye, I survey the vast murkiness of possibilities with openness and curiosity and not a little bit of anxiety but also excitement. I’ve not traveled these waters before.

Where will I be in 5 years? No idea. What will I write about next? No clue. What will I do with my websites and advocacy and comedy? How well am I parenting my boys through their teen years as a divorced mom? Ha! Oh dear.

Not that I want to give up on any of it, I don’t. I’m making eleven-year-old me proud.

I move forward.

I am brave when I am unsure and afraid.

I am trusting the process.

I’m doing my best right here, right now.

I am making her proud.

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