I know, I know...

I'm sorry. I haven't posted in awhile and I've been suspiciously absent from Facebook and Twitter too so for that I apologize.

Things have just been, well, busy.

The day job has been a little crazy and I've been dealing with some personal stuff outside of that too, so yeah, you've been neglected...*sighs*

Because of it, I'm taking away my own cookies for a whole week, cause I haven't been fair to you...*gasp, shock, horror!*

Don't try to stop me now! *holds out a hand and locks away the cookies* No, no, I deserve it, so...*turns the key and hides that away until such time that she's worthy again...*

Anyway, today I want to talk to you folks about #insecurities...

A little background first though.

I've always dealt with depression. It stems from the fact that I'm adopted (Another blog for another day, trust me, cause it's well, complicated!) and deep down I've always had this hole that wasn't quite filled.

Now, don't misunderstand. My adoptive parents were AWESOME!!! I never hated them, I never disliked them, hell, I never even thought twice about their level of love for me. (Even when my mom and I - both very strong personalities - would go at it, did I question whether either of my parents loved me. Ever.) But there's always been a part of me that felt, unwanted.

Please realize, I totally get why I was put up for #adoption when I was barely a few days old. I understand - always have - the circumstances behind the choice my natural mother made. And I recognize it was the right one. (Yes, I knew my natural mom and while we never talked about it, I got the full story from my adopted one. As I said, it's complicated and one day maybe I'll lay it all out there. Maybe.)

Anyway, knowing this about me, I can hear you saying, "Well, if you're that insecure, how can you be an Author?"

*laughs* It's because of that insecurity though that I developed a very, very thick skin. Most of the time at least. Once and awhile though, it cracks and it's those times that it does, that have me questioning if I should keep writing/publishing.

Now, let me tell you what spawned this post today...

Earlier in the week, I was invited to an event by a co-worker. She asked me to come along to her Church last night after she'd bought some of my books. She has a young friend - about 16-17 or so, also a member of her church - that wants to be a writer.

Yeah, yeah, I hear you over there. "But, Margaret, doesn't everyone have a young friend that wants to be a writer??"

*laughs* Sometimes.

My co-worker asked me to meet with her youngin' at the event and give her some pointers on getting started. (And she wanted me to sign a set of paperbacks she'd bought for the kidlet too, so hey, how can I refuse that, right???)

Anyway, we'd planned to meet about 7pm or so and she'd intro me to the kidlet and we could talk. (They were having some local bands around to perform for the evening, so yeah, there would be plenty of people there.)

So, off I go. I drive across town, find the place easily enough...and wait. And wait. And wait. And then wait some more...

(She was late and I had no clue who I was supposed to be meeting - other than my co-worker - so I just stood there, looking and feeling like a complete and utter idiot.)

Don't get me wrong, everyone was nice enough, but I had no clue who anyone was, or who I needed to look for (the kidlet), so yeah. And, to top it off, I've gotten a new phone, so I'd forgotten to get my co-workers number...*slaps hand* I know, I know! Bad me!

Now, here's where the old, high-school years of "I-really-don't-belong-here-little-green-monsters" started poking their ugly little scaly noses into my business! (The bastards!)

As I paced in the parking lot, watching each car arrive and looking for my friend, all those moments of: "Why am I here?" "What do I do?" "Can the earth just open up and swallow me now?" "Is everyone looking at me?" popped into my head and just wouldn't go away...

Normally, I'm very confident in unknown situations. I have to be for the day job, but socially, I'm about as wall-flower as you can get, especially if I'm depending on someone else - IE: Supposed to be meeting someone and it's "their" thing, not mine.

I'm on the verge of tears, thinking some not so pleasant thoughts and just about to get in my car and leave, when my co-worker arrives. She's a wonderful person, she really is, and immediately put me at ease and I ended up having a great time chatting with the kidlet, I really did!

As only writers can do, we talked about stories and characters and plots and books and just connected as only two kindred spirits can. I was happy to give her some basic pointers on how to take her work from where it is now to where it needs to be and I'm sure I'll continue to help her along the way - once she takes that first step. She's a great kid, she really is, has a firm head on her shoulders and I think really wants to be a writer.

(My author friends know the type and she fits it, she really does.)

Anyway, I had a great time. So much so, that when I was leaving - two hours later - her father said to me: "I'm not sure what you two talked about, but thank you. She doesn't get that often because half the time we have no idea what she's saying..." (Apparently the kidlet is one of the few in the family that's creative, so yeah.)

All in all, it ended up being a great evening! And it really reinforced why I write and probably always will. It's so I can revel in moments like last evening and have someone to talk to that doesn't think I'm totally insane! :D

Now, here's where you come in. I want to hear about your "Ugly Little Green Monster" who pokes his (or her) nose where it doesn't belong at the most inopportune moments! Share with me my friends. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone...*winks*

Thanks as always for stopping by...

Until next time.

Margaret Taylor