First steps. First time riding a bike. A first kiss. First pets.
All these bring such excitement and joy to mind.
But firsts around the internet are hard, for we are also a society that is wrapped up in the web.
First blog posts. First tweets. First photos published. They all leave such a lasting first impression.

Our internet firsts are what introduce us to a larger audience. If we can keep our attention span and stay with a platform long enough, these firsts might last for quite awhile perhaps even becoming old and outdated.

Nonetheless, I feel obligated to take my time when first posting on the web.
After all, if by chance I don’t post again for awhile (which is quite possible) these words will linger.
And after all, I’ve had a lot of internet firsts having created numerous blogs in the past trying to get my niche just right.

Even though I’ve been blogging here and there for quite sometime, I still feel introductions are in order: I’m Caitlin, and this blog is my little corner of stories.

By stories, I mean musings about my life. However, I do hope that someday I’ll be sharing some of the fictional stories I write as well. In my journey as a writer, I’ve been all over the place and tried my hand at poetry, creative nonfiction, freelancing, and writing about my hobbies which has resulted in a book blog, a running blog, a portfolio, and at one point a yoga website. Yet through they years, I’ve found I have a very hard time sticking to one topic. Life is too big to simply narrow my writing.

And so, I’ve given up trying.

If you ask me what I love to do, I have a list, but at the top would be to put words on a page that someone, somewhere might read. I’ve come to understand that writing is part of my original design–one thing in my soul God designed me for. Since I’ve been a child, I’ve filed away scrap pieces of paper, napkins, post-its, and Word documents filled with story ideas, thoughts, characters, memories, and the joys and worries of my life. Yet, in the last few years I’ve done little with them. Shared them with no one.

Mostly, because for a time, I didn’t believe in myself as a writer.

But during this whole process of writing-not-writing that I’ve been in the last few years, I’ve begun to hear the Spirit’s whispers telling me I am good enough. I’ve begun to realize that writing in all shapes and forms makes me come alive.

Henry David Thoreau says:

Our truest life is when we are dreams awake.