Dear Love,
I often find myself or catch a glimpse of my authentic self when I am rambling to my speech-to-text app in my car. In those intimate moments, while my mind and heart are dancing on the tip of my tongue, I stammer upon the necessary incremental notions of who I am becoming and what she and I truly desire.
Unfortunately or fortunately, the transcriptions of said candid recordings is barely ever an accurate representation of those actual self-revelational moments. Therefore, the mere thought of editing the ramblings into anything close to a cohesive blog post is offensively and deflatingly laughable. Nevertheless, I choose peace in knowing the intent to write for and release in this space again is far greater than my writer’s blocks, dialectal misspeaks, and the speech-to-text app’s listening inadequacies.
The latter is why I am writing now. For the better part of 5 or 6 years, this space, my space, ours— has been experiencing a content drought. I know this drought, in many ways, has been a spiritual displacement and somewhat likened to countless soul-refining journeys cycling— all around the same mulberry bush. That said, it has not made it any less depressing or traumatizing, yet still, a journey of immense healing. Ha! One helluva lovetrip!
Where have I been?
Breaking, shaking, shifting, mending, and struggling to find my way to some version of myself that feels authentic and fulfilling. The transition from maiden to mother has not been a crystal stair. And let’s be honest, the roller-coaster of a ride that is transitioning back and forth between working a 9-5 and being a freelance serial entrepreneur is not for the faint of heart.
Despite my lack of publishing, I have not ceased to write over the years. In many not-so-surprising ways, writing has continued to be my haven. The latter has resulted in several unfiltered journal entries, unreleased posts, and unfinished manuscripts of many sorts. Eh, do not jump the starting pistol. It is improbable any of those pennings will grace these virtual pages. After all, seasons changed and so have I.
That is not to say you will never be invited to revel in those days passed and lessons learned. However, it is much more likely that you will find me starting anew and simply reflecting on some of those moments scribed in this new season.
Here is where I will leave you until next write. I do realize this may not seem like much of an “I have returned.” However, know that when you see this piece, life with an exuberant 4-year-young son and 3-week-young baby girl calls for at least three days to pen, edit, and publish a post. Regardless of how long it takes me to dish out a new correspondence to you, I have come so far as a woman, consort, and mother, so trust me— everything is up from here.
I love you still, best of love to you always,
Egypt ♥
P.S.
I released a collection of poetry. Have you read it? Get your copy from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or Books-a-million.
