A few weeks ago I was rummaging through a box I had tucked away and found my autobiography. I wrote it when I was 11 years old. It is hand written very neatly over 5 pages of foolscap, with 3 pages of black & white Polaroid’s attached to make the story more interesting. It starts….My name is Patricia Ann Lowry – Patty for short and I am 11 years old. It goes on to describe my family members, the many places we lived, the many schools I had to start and how hard it was to move every few years, how hard it was to make friends and how lonely I was. It talks about my hobbies, my love of animals – especially squirrels and how much I just loved going to EXPO 67, because it was like the world in one big fair ground and that one day I hoped to travel the world and write a book.

Forty-three years ago, a little girl wrote her autobiography and this past year, the same girl, a little older, wiser and well-lived wrote her bio along with 150 pages of personal life truths that will soon be published and made real to the world.  When I think about who I have become so far, I get a little choked up. It triggers something, a place deep inside me where that little girl still exists, still strives, still fights and survives and still wants approval and love.  But when I think about her I think of her with such pride and admiration because she is tough, and strong of mind and spirit, and she is full of dreams and wonder and she never gave up on anyone, anything and especially herself.  I can’t remember where she found that power especially being so young – but I do remember her knowing everything would somehow be ok.  I get choked up because she is still inside me and reminds me of this all the time.

As I countdown over the next month to the launch of my book I am filled with a whole kitten caboodle of different emotions –from complete over the moon excitement and OMG this is really really real to WTF have I got myself into and OMG this is really really real.  I’m about to get naked. Expose my deepest thoughts, opinions and open my vault, my mind and heart to the whole wide world to ponder upon. Kinda scary being vulnerable…lowering the drawbridge, calling off the dragons, removing my shield and putting down my sword to invite you into my castle to play. But there is also a beauty and sense of freedom to being vulnerable that I discovered throughout writing my book (and btw…wrote a list for the book on “How to be vulnerable”).  Whether it’s asking for help, sharing your fears, opening yourself to judgement – both positive and negative, the same essence of authenticity also brings you closer to achievement, applause, empathy, joy and big sparkly badges of courage!

So bring it on! Be brave. Be open. Be breakable. Be real. That’s a beautiful thing.