I can write better than I can talk. And I talk a lot. In fact, way more than the ordinary person. I talk way too much. And most of the time when I’m talking, I just keep on going, because I’m trying to find the words to say what I want to say, or to express what I’m trying to say or feel. And I keep searching for the words, saying things different ways trying to get the point across. But the words just don’t come.

That’s why I write.

I don’t know where she comes from. But sometimes I have this inner voice that’s just coming out through me that I need to get it down on paper, or down on a note, and type it or post it, or speak it, or something. And those are the times when I feel it’s me getting something down that I really need to share because it’s insightful, witty or funny, stupid, or just downright ridiculous.

My husband. He thinks I talk way too much. He says I have a quota every day of 20,000 words and I need to get them all out. And if I don’t, I keep talking, until I have gotten all 20,000 words out for the day. That’s a lot of talking.

In the evening when he just wants to chill, and I am still getting my words out. Somehow with all those words, I never really get to say, what I need to say.

There’s so many times when I wish I had said something different. Or nothing at all.

My husband though. He’s the total opposite. He can speak the right words, at the right time. All of the time. I mean he has a gift. For knowing what to say. In every situation.

Not me. It’s the total opposite. I have to write it.

That’s why I’m a writer. I am just. I’m coming now just to embrace that fact.

When my parents, my sweet parents, amazing. They were packing up my apartment for me, to move back to San Diego. I had piles of journals everywhere, and that’s when my dad said, “Cheri, you’re a writer.”

“I know dad. You’re right. What am I going to do about it?”

Then when my life finally gave me enough pause, that I was able to stop and read some of my writings, I came to that conclusion. I am a writer.

It’s not something that I’ve aspired to be, or become, or tried to work towards.

It’s just what I am, who I am, part of me. How I express myself really.

How I journal and document my life, my feelings, my tragedies and my emotions. My trips and travels, and wanderings, and musings, and loses and flames, loves.

Anything that has transpired in my life I have most likely written about it. Unless it was something I didn’t want to remember, then in that case, I am positive I didn’t write about it.

So speak less, write more. I need to follow my own motto.