DAY FOUR in Voting - I'll tell you a secret...

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Hello my #STARlings!

Today is Day Four in the SYTYCW15 voting window, and I thought perhaps today I should share a little bit about myself and my writing journey with you.

We all have dreams.

Hopes and aspirations.

Sometimes, if we're incredibly lucky - or if we work really, really hard - we may be blessed enough to grab hold of it. Achieve it. Realize it.

Mine is almost within my grasp. So close I can graze that glowing, thrilling triumph with my finger tips.

When I first entered into Harlequin's SYTYCW contest, I told myself that I was going to be in this to win it. Everything I did, every move and decision I made, was with the understanding I would reach this point. And now that i have, I don't think I honestly really believed I would - deep down in the darkest, most intimate corners of my self-doubt. I was afraid, terrified, to want something so intensely.

Because, God I do.

So, what's my secret?

I used to be shy. Painfully shy. So shy I couldn't look people in the eye. So shy that I always walked around with head down, eyes glued to the pavement. I had the art of invisibility cornered. You wouldn't see me, or remember me, unless I wanted you to. The only place felt safe and secure was tucked away in one of my stories (either the ones I was writing, or the ones I was reading).

I remember zoning out in class because a character had just come to life inside my head. There in an instant. Taking shape and flesh. Sort of like watching a flower bloom, petal by petal. I would flip to the back of my binder or notebook, frantically taking down notes, or drafting full scenes I would later run to the library to pound out on the computer.

My days were consumed with writing - for no other reason then I simply had to write. I thought I would go insane if I didn't. I was rabid, back then. Pounding out a book (a very rough book) a month, at least, for years. Despite being in full-time school and maintaining a solid GPA (honour roll graduate here!), I dedicated at least six solid hours a day to writing.

Writing is the only thing I knew, deep down in my gut, that I wanted to to do. Could ever see myself doing - and being happy with it.

This went on for YEARS. And it took me a long time to break away from behind that computer screen, to even look someone in the eye let alone my own reflection in the mirror.Until one day I took a look at myself and realized I had a freakin' tan line on my face (darker brow with ashen pale cheeks) because I ALWAYS kept my damn head down. I was shocked. That glaring realization slapped me straight and I told myself this had to stop. I had to change.

That was the first day I forced myself to hold my head up. Everywhere I went, I had the chant, "keep your chin up". It was a struggle. Every day a hurdle I had to overcome.

Naturally because I was so shy, it stands to reason that I also had a crippling case of stage freight.

Recognizing my own weaknesses, I systematically chipped away at them, signing up for intensive drama, befriending the 'cool' kids and socializing to break out of my own awkward shell. Dating! When I hit twenty-four, I thought I had succeeded in leaving that awkward, invisible girl behind, but after having my daughter (dealing with the issues of a post-pregnancy body) I slowly felt her creeping back in around the edges, eroding that carefully acquired self-confidence I'd struggled for years to find.

So I did something a little crazy. I became a bikini fitness model [And there's the pic above to prove it! LOL]. I competed in three fitness shows in the span of a year where I had to strut on stage, exuding poise and confidence, wearing the tiniest blinded out bikini imaginable, standing next to a dozen fit, gorgeous girls (most of whom had been in the game for YEARS) and sell myself to the judges. To the audience.

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