By Robin Kaye
Have you ever stopped and wondered how the heck you got where you are? I had a moment today when I did exactly that. I had just gotten out of the shower after eating lunch--I know, I should have taken my shower at a respectable time, but I began work, as usual, after making my first pot of coffee at 6:30 this morning, wearing my pajamas and ended up working in them until it was almost time for me to leave.
Before my shower, I made lunch for myself and my home-schooled daughter, the 13-year-old ballerina, and left her with instructions to do the dishes. After getting myself back together, I investigated strange noises coming from the direction of the kitchen and found my 120 lb. yellow lab with his front paws on the kitchen counter slurping up the last of what was almost a quart of my homemade spaghetti sauce. Twinkle-Toes had neither done the dishes nor put away the leftovers. Sambuca, my dog, looked at me with a guilty sauce-laden face and I wondered how I got there.
I never planned to marry or have three kids. But then I never planned on falling in love with my very own Domestic God either. After we married, my husband and I moved to Idaho. I never planned to move back east. Yet, there I was, watching my dog slurp spaghetti sauce in my home in Maryland where we moved nine years ago. I never planned to home school my daughter so she could dance 30 hours a week. Yet here I was doing just that.
It’s funny where life leads us. I can’t say I regret doing any of the above. I love my life, although I would rather still be leading it in Idaho. Yet, if I had stayed in Idaho, I probably would never have begun writing toward publication, so although I miss my home, I can’t say I really regret the move.
Like most writers, writing is something I’ve done since before I can remember. Unlike most writers, writing was never something I wished to do for a living--probably because it never occurred to me that anyone would ever be interested in reading my work. If I had stayed in Idaho, I wouldn’t have been bored spitless enough to ever think of sharing my scribblings. But if you take a woman from all her friends and family, there’s no telling what she’ll do to keep herself occupied. I wrote. And for that, I’m most thankful.
Sharing my writing has changed my life so drastically; there are no words to express it. I went from being a stay-at-home mom with three little kids, to a being novelist. It came at a time when I was at a crossroads in my life. My youngest daughter was just gaining her independence, and I turned around one day and wondered who I was. I was Mom and Stephen’s wife, but if I took my family out of the equation, I felt like a big nobody. I no longer knew who Robin was. It left me reeling. It took a while, but writing helped give me back my identity. I’m a writer and I love it. I adore getting paid to daydream. It makes something I’ve done all my life and something I always got in trouble for, highly respectable. Who knew?
Writing has also given me so many wonderful friendships. It’s opened up a whole world full of real and imaginary characters to me. When people ask me what I would be doing if I weren’t an author, I have to say that I have no idea. A writer is who I am. It’s a part of my DNA, not something I could change or would ever want to. Being an author has changed my life in so many ways, in ways I never could have imagined just a few short years ago. Just like I could never have imagined all the places I would go.
So what about you? Has your life taken you where you imagined it would?