I’ve recently started reading Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes. I’m at a slight disadvantage because I don’t watch a lot of television, so I’m not familiar with any of the shows Ms. Rhimes references. (Though I do understand that they’re her shows).
Putting aside my television ignorance, so far, I’m right there with Ms. Rhimes. I want to see where this year takes her. Because there was something she wrote within the first thirty pages of her book that really spoke to me.
“Whatever that spark is that makes each one of us alive and unique … mine had gone. Stolen like paintings on the wall. The flickering flame responsible for lighting me up from the inside, making me glow, keeping me warm … my candle had blown out. I was shut down. I was tired. I was afraid. Small. Quiet.”
Sometimes I fear that I will become that person — the always tired, always afraid, always quiet person. And sometimes I fear that I have already become that person. And that’s not the person my husband married. That’s not the person I want my son growing up with. And that’s not the person I want to see when I look in the mirror.
So the reading continues. I’ll go with Ms. Rhimes on her journey, and maybe, it’ll help me with mine.