I miss my bookstore time
My son has been doing school virtually this year. It's been a challenge for everyone. We discovered this week that he needs supervision during school. So I moved him up to my office.
My writing space has been invaded by parenthood. By responsibility. By adulthood.
My writing space had already been invaded by the day job. But I solved that with a separate desk and a printed tapestry. I put the work desk to bed at night. It disappears into a nightscape of forest trees and stars.
I've had a day off work, but I couldn't get any writing done. I couldn't focus. I was in Mom-mode. There was no space for writing.
As I write this now, my kid is sitting next to me trying to ignore school. I am so very privileged to have a day off work. To be able to work from home. To have an office that my work computer can live in. To have my kid safely home during a pandemic.
All of these things are blessings. All of these things make me feel like I have no room to complain.
A very dear friend told me just because others have it harder doesn't mean I'm not allowed to complain. I can miss spending hours at the bookstore getting lost in my story. I can miss having a place where all the responsibilities of being a mom, wife, employee, and adult fell away, and I could just be the writer.
As we move past the one year anniversary of the pandemic in the US, give yourself permission to feel your feelings. Give yourself space to complain. Give yourself the love you'd give to your best friend.
You deserve it.