Writing About Who I Am

Writing About Who I Am

I’ve finished the content for book #2 and am now starting to put it into the necessary format so it can be published. While working on it, I think I came up with what I want to write about for the next book. After spending 2 days talking with high school students, I think I want to write a book based on the info in my talk — my experience and learnings in the the hot mess of life (i.e., the stuff we’re not supposed to talk about, or at least that’s what I always thought).

I’ve been starting to jot down some thoughts and thought I’d share today’s writing:

My name is Robin.

If you care, in past lives I was an elite gymnast, Human Resources manager, a personal chef, and a health coach (for a little while).

When people ask me what I do these days, I say I’m a life shower upper, mess maker, and mom. Sometimes people look at me and are like “…Okay…” and other times ask about the first two (I guess the third is self-explanatory). The beauty of my answer (I think) is that I can respond with anything I’d like, depending on how I’m feeling that day. It really leaves it quite open.

If I had to be more specific, I’d say I’m an inspirational writer and speaker (note: I almost edited “inspirational” out — I was like, I can’t write that, how egotistical/who knows if true/blah, blah, blah). My business liability insurance has me listed as an author. This seems kind of weird and yet awesome to me. I suppose it is true; I did publish a book last year and spend time each day blogging + send out a weekly newsletter.

I think I’ve always wanted to be a writer and a speaker helping inspire and give pick-me-ups to others (I know how much this sort of stuff helps me, and the idea of being the resource I’d have liked to have found when I was really struggling keeps urging me forward), though something inside has always pooh-poohed this as “not a real job,” which is probably why I struggle with a title, and why for so long I didn’t even want to tell others what I was really doing. I was afraid they’d laugh at me or something.

And now I’m writing a book putting that into the ether for anyone to read. How far I’ve come (or crazy I’ve gotten).

One of the big things I like to do is talk about the sorts of stuff I always thought we shouldn’t talk about. The taboo stuff, the “bad” stuff, the mistakes and imperfections. I’m going there in this book. I must say, to get it out onto the page is rather cathartic. Better out than in, I guess.

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