I'm nearly through the first draft!

I almost can't believe it. What a journey this has been. I could not have possibly anticipated how healing it would be. I truly hope that when this book is completed, it can provide a light for someone who might be suffering in their own private darkness. I also hope that it will inspire people to help one another, to be more understanding and compassionate to those who've suffered at the hands of domestic violence or sexual abuse, some of whom have mental illnesses or lifetime struggles with anxiety, and some who've been swallowed up by addictions, too ravaged by the past to find the strength to fight it any longer.

I've learned to have much more compassion for myself while writing this story. Sometimes, it's compassion for self that is the most difficult to achieve. We are only human, after all.

I think the most important thing we can do is try not to harm one another, or ourselves. We stumble along, attempting to become our best selves as we progress through life, often forgetting where we've come from — forgetting to acknowledge the struggles of others which have shaped their thoughts and patterns much as our own struggles have shaped our personal views. Can you imagine what the world could look like if we tried to simply be kind to one another?

When I think of this first draft, my mind's eye creates an image of an old house, centuries old, chests and boxes of memories stored in the basement and the attic, antique furniture strewn about the dusty floors, old photos hanging at odd angles, draped with cobwebs. The bones and the structure are good, but there is much remodeling to be done.

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