What have I been putting off doing? Why?

I have been ducking and diving from the pages scattered across my desk for months. Ok, years!. Well, they’re not scattered, I’m a bit OCD, so neatly arranged on my desk.

I look at this beautiful stack of A4 sheets of paper every day (old school) knowing I just need to complete the final chapter. I am referring to my memoir.

I’ve had to look deeply within myself as to why I can’t seem to write the final pages. After much soul searching, and a couple of red wines (it helps sometimes), I have come to the realisation that I fear failure, rejection (not the book, but me), misinterpretation, and questioning myself as to whether I have omitted relevant information. But more importantly…..I will be revealing my truths, my life, and my vulnerabilities 😱.

If I complete it…What would I do next?

Well, I have got a bloody big pile of ironing to do 🤔.