The other night, my husband had just gotten home for the day and we were talking about money and our upcoming move, which led to things we want to get rid of down here in California and how we hope to actively declutter our home before it comes time to pack. I gestured to my "writing/craft table", and miserably made comment of the stacks of writing books and how-to's sitting there.
My husband laughed, and said to me "But Babe, that's your thing. You're a writer, and those books are part of your craft."
My first response was to jump up and kiss him all over. My internal dialogue was similar to the following: "He thinks I'm a writer?! That's my thing? HE USED THE WORD CRAFT?!"
I used to feel as though I could never be a writer. I had never had any support in that area before. I remember telling my mother when I was young that I wanted to be a writer wen I grew up. She said that I couldn't be because it doesn't make any money. Well, I don't make any money now as a stay-at-home-mom, and it doesn't cost me a penny to type away on this keyboard. The cherry to it all, the extremely touching and emotional cherry, is that my husband believes in my and in my passion, and in my potential.
And if he believes in me, I can do anything.