A new book.

New chapters have been a way I’ve categorized so much of my life. Many people have said the same thing. It’s either a new chapter, a new path, a new beginning … Just something new, anything new other than the situation we’re wanting to be out of.

And for some reason I keep thinking of White Snake’s “Here I Go Again” when I think of the topic of new paths. Completely random and weird, but true.

Back to the topic, a friend and I were speaking the other night about our pasts and how our romantic partners played a role in the various experiences we’ve had that have helped or hurt us to shape us into who we are today. This friend made the observation that I categorized years of my life by the men I had been with. For the sake of examples I’ll make it up; let’s say Mr. Wrong 1 years, Mr. Wrong 2 years, and Mr. Wrong 3 years. I didn’t realize that I was identifying myself as the men I dated rather than as myself.

I like to think of myself as a strong woman that has overcome a lot of things. I believe I’ve come out of nightmare situations with a positive attitude when some people would be bitter if given the same circumstances, so their observation has been on my mind.

I don’t want to start a new chapter categorized by another man. I want to start a new book categorized by my life, not anyone else’s. To end an old pattern I’m going to start a new book. My last book is closed. I’m ready to put it up on my new book shelf in my new home. I won’t throw it away because it needs to serve a purpose as an old book that I take out in extreme situations to remind me why the new book started.

It’s raining in the city of Louisville tonight and maybe in my world, metaphorically. They say the rain is natures way of cleaning earth. I usually hate the rain but tonight it’s soothing because I know that it’s bringing a change. It’s time to look at the new book I’m writing and tonight is the first page.