I met a woman the other day at a local concert. After discovering my name, she told me that she had read some of my writing and that she loved it. My face twisted with a strange combination of confusion, embarrassment, and joy. What deep dark corner of the internet had this woman stumbled upon to discover my writing? She tried to remember what she had read and where… I tried to remember what the heck I had written and where I had shared it. We came to the agreement that she must have found my blog… This blog. The blog I haven’t posted on in *cough cough* two years *cough*… But this complete stranger saw me as a writer. Not only that, she saw me as a good writer. And that was a really great feeling.
And so… here I am.
It’s not that I haven’t written anything in the past two years. I just haven’t shared anything in the past two years. I’ve started at least a dozen different things, telling myself I’d post them later. But they were never quite right. I eventually created such a high standard for myself that I couldn’t write anything public without overthinking every single word. My ideas had to be world changing, my writing – flawless. *Spoiler alert* they were none of those things.
I’m not a big fan of labels. Okay… I’m not a big fan of expectations. I love to draw, but I never refer to myself as an artist. I love to sing, but I can never come to call myself a singer. But when it comes to writing, I am a writer. Right now, as I’m writing, I feel like I’m becoming more myself with every word. I’m not a writer because I believe my writing is perfect or special. I’m a writer because it changes me, and it gives me power to change the world around me.
A little over a year ago, I had a life-changing realization: I have the power to choose. I know, it sounds so simple. But it completely changed me. I didn’t have to be the “passenger” in life. I could actually be the driver. Once I realized this, I went a little crazy (at least by my standard). Over the span of four months, I quit my job, got my first tattoo, went to South Korea, and literally bleached the life out of my hair. It took me twenty years… but I finally became conscious of my power to say yes and (sometimes, more importantly) my power to say no.
So this is me saying no to self-doubt, and saying yes to being a writer. This isn’t a life changing piece of literature, I know. But it’s an ice breaker. So hi! I’m Heather. I love Jesus, music, lasagna, and writing…not necessarily in that order. Nineteen-year-old-Heather called this blog Quest for Strange because I see my life as an adventure – embracing strangeness and helping others see the world in a different way. So more or less, that is my mission for this little blog. I hope you enjoy some of the stories I have to share.
Stay strange. ❤