When I was 11 years old, I started writing short stories. When I was 13, I wrote a 120-page novella in three days. Inspired by R.L. Stein’s Goosebumps, and Lurlene McDaniel’s One Last Wish book series, and all of the many, many books I’d read leading up to that point, I just decided to sit down and craft my own stories.
And then not long after that, I heard about a movie called “Message In A Bottle” that was about to debut in theatres (this was 1999 LOL). I knew it was based on a book and I wanted to read the book before I saw the movie.
My mom’s friend had a copy of the book and said I could borrow it when she was finished. In the meantime, she gave me another book by the same author to read. That book was The Notebook, by Nicholas Sparks.
And reading it sparked something in me that day (no pun intended). A remembrance. A knowing. A certainty.
THIS is what I’m going to do with my life. Be a writer and a storyteller. Have my books get turned into movies. Most importantly, write love stories.
I knew that was my purpose on the planet.
And then I became an adult and writing fiction took a back seat to so many other things. It wasn’t until January 2008 that I finally got serious about this purpose to write love stories.
I wrote my very first novel that year, a love story about a girl who decides to drop everything and move across the country to try and date a famous singer who she believes is her soulmate. It was a mess of a story and I still had so much to learn at that point, but I knew in my heart of hearts I had found my calling.
Now that doesn’t mean it was easy to get from knowing what I came here to do to actually doing it. That has always been the hard part for me–consistently doing the thing I know I’m really meant to.
I hated working for someone else and felt like my soul was dying a little more every day when I had a corporate day job, so in 2012, I jumped ship and turned my part-time freelance writing business into a full-time thing. From there it shifted and pivoted into teaching and coaching, and courses, and digital products, and a whole lot of other stuff.
I knew I would never be happy unless I was working for myself and had total freedom and control of my time, location, and the work I was doing. And in building this business I now have and continue to grow, I found another part of my purpose–to help writers, creatives, and dreamers unfuck their minds and own their worth so they can live their dreams. (Getting to the point where I could own my purpose was a mind unfucking all in itself… by that’s a story for another day.)
But along the way, I’ve continually forgotten what it’s always been about for me. I’ve veered away from following my North Star–aka: writing fiction–and let myself be distracted by all these shiny objects and things other people are doing and saying I should be doing.
And then I remember who I am and what I came here to do and be, and I realign myself with my North Star.
That’s kinda how claiming your purpose works. You’re in it and out of it and in it and out of it until you finally fully accept what it’s always been about for you and you surrender to it.
Letting it forever be your guiding light.
The North Star that leads your year, your month, your week, your day. The reference point for everything you do going forward.
After planning my 2021 at the end of December, I had to throw everything away and rearrange the plan to accommodate finally fully accepting what I know it’s always been about for me, what it will always be about for me, and what I know I would regret more than anything else if I died having not done it.
I had to give myself another reminder: I am a writer, an author, a storyteller who coaches and creates digital courses NOT the other way around.
Writing fiction is what it’s always been about for me. From a young age, I knew that’s what I was meant for.
And now I’ve finally surrendered to it.
What do you know it has ALWAYS been about for you, and are you doing that thing right now? If you are–awesome. Keep on going.
If you’re not, now’s the time to give yourself permission and then follow it like a North Star into the unknown.
Dream life or bust,