When I chose brave as my word of the year, I had no idea what I was getting into. In my new year’s post, I said I was going to let the word guide me, but I did not foresee the path I’m currently stumbling along. When I switched up my usual writing process in February, I thought THAT was being brave.

HA.

I mean, it was brave, but I’ve found myself in a space that I haven’t experienced in over 20 years — one that allows me to read a book and chat with friends and roll around on the floor with my dog —all without feeling guilty. I still have twinges of hey, you should probably get back to that book you’re writing, and I will, but it’s been really nice just allowing myself to exist. To breathe.

Last week I went to Pennsylvania (where I saw Taylor Swift OMG) and for the first time in over a decade, I didn’t bring my laptop. I had a few moments of, oh hey, this would be a good time to try to write, but instead I told that voice to hush and instead relaxed. I realize some of you might be thinking to yourself, well yeah, that’s called a vacation, but that’s not how I’ve functioned. I’ve prided myself on making the very best of every moment of my day and unwinding from that will take time.

Time I now apparently have.

Since deciding to take a sabbatical from all things marketing, I’ve written a little, but hardly enough to count for anything. And I’m okay with it. Apparently I needed this break more than I realized and being able to do other things that I enjoy without that persistent guilt over what I’m NOT doing has been wonderful.

I’m slowly reassessing my long-term goals, what I want for myself as an author, and how writing fits into everything else in my life. I’m excited for what the future holds, but I’m determined to take my time getting to that next phase.