This Wednesday evening marks the end of a significant chapter in my life, and I am overwhelmed by dysphoria. For the last six months, every Wednesday, I would cycle across Amsterdam to the Writer's Studio. My week would pivot around Wednesday. And in that place I met with a unique, diverse, and particularly talented group of writers. I can sincerely say I love each and every one of them.
The Writer's Studio came at a most vital moment in my life. It has been a safe haven in a time of turmoil and change. It has carried me through transition and growth. I could bring the deepest, truest, and at times darkest part of myself, and never fear a word of judgement. They encouraged, enlightened, and lifted me up. I hope I did the same for each one of them.
I have grown leaps and bounds from this class. Not only as a writer, but also as a person. I know who I am now. I am a writer. I know what my goals are. I know what I want to write about. But more than goals as a writer, I know my goals in life. I am not the same woman who walked into that first sample class. I had no idea then how stumbling into that first class would be one of the best decisions I ever made.
For the last six months, I feel as though I was a piece of pottery in a kiln. In the furnace, in the heat of the fire, being made. Well, I have emerged from the fire, stronger than ever. I know in which direction I will go forward. And I will pursue it with determination. There is no force on Earth that could possibly hold me back.
Now, as this semester of the Writer's Studio ends, there are things to be done . People to see. Promises to keep. Plans that have been written that need to be put into place. So instead of enrolling into the next semester, I will have to take a hiatus from the Writer's Studio. (But not a hiatus from writing. That wouldn't be possible.) I know without a doubt I will be back. That is not a question. I am merely letting go for now to make space for what comes next. Taking a breath. Turning my attention elsewhere, as it needs to be.
This experience and each one of my fellow writers will stay with me for the rest of my life, for the rest of my writing career. It is indelible. Written in permanent ink.
I am not sad. No. Sadness is for when things go wrong. I am letting go of this chapter and allowing a new one to begin.