These past few months I’ve been talking with my mom quite a bit. The launch of Tell Her has been exhilarating and powerful, but it’s also brought waves of feeling extremely vulnerable. As I’ve put myself out there and shared this idea, I’ve found so much comfort in my mom reminding me that in many ways, I’m just coming home to myself.
She would also be the first one to tell you that none of what is happening is any surprise to her.
I was that kid who sat at the kitchen table and drew and created for hours at a time. I would create characters and plots and my mom told me that I would just get lost in the magic of it. I devoured books, and I started writing as soon as I knew how to hold a pencil and express a thought. And diaries? OMG, so many of them.
Writing was a bit of an obsession for me as a kid.
In first grade I participated in a Young Authors program where all the kids in my class were asked to write one full book and bring it with them to a special celebration event.
I wrote twenty-two of them.
Twenty-freaking-two.
I mean, what kind of first-grader does that? (Keep reading for my best guess.)
My mom kept those books (and the diaries) and gave them to me a few years ago when we sold our family home. I love reading through them, and in doing so, I’ve found glimpses of the writer I am today.
My dream job, pretty much since I can remember, was to be a greeting card writer.
I know it seems a bit odd, but I’ve always loved making people feel good with my words. I was (and still am) that person who has ZERO control in a paper or card shop. For some it’s buying new shoes, but for me, it’s greeting cards and paper. ALL DAY LONG.
And then, I wouldn’t just say, ‘love Mel’ on the inside of these cards. Oh no. I would write a novel about what that person meant to me. (Imagine trading notes with me in seventh grade. You were IN FOR IT.)
I’ve been thinking a lot about the trajectory of my life and career and how Tell Her is realizing the dream of a young awkward girl who never quite knew where or how she fit in but was determined to write her way into the world.
I also have to laugh at all the times I felt stuck, and it felt like life was happening to me instead of for me.
I can honestly say that had my mom not stoked the fires of my young creative heart, the fire would’ve been put out a long time ago. Feeling stuck would’ve eventually turned into settling and “this is good enough.”
So here’s the thing — when my kids tell me their biggest or simplest or craziest dreams, I listen. I take them seriously. I ask them how they’ll do it and what it’ll look like and how it’ll make them happy.
I think of what might have happened if my mom had told me, “That’s a silly idea” or “That’ll never make you money” or “That’s not a serious profession.”
I probably wouldn’t have been the girl writing twenty-two books in first grade, and I certainly wouldn’t be an entrepreneur launching a collection of my writings.
This entire project has reminded me that following your passion is not hokey or ridiculous — it’s simply being true to who you are. It’s paying attention to what brings you joy.
And more than that, it’s believing that YOU are the one to bring it into the world. You have to believe in yourself and what you are creating — that’s the magic. That’s it. That’s the rocket fuel to any idea, vision or dream. No one can believe in it more than you.
Last thing — What did you want to be when you grew up? What did you LOVE doing? What made you laugh? What would your first grade teacher say about your gifts? What was that crazy dream that you put on the back burner? What was that business you almost started? What was that blog you almost wrote? What was that move you almost made?
What are your almosts? And are you good with that, or is there some unfinished business there?
Don’t for one second think it’s too late to dream and become.
– Mel Charbonneau
Mel Charbonneau is the founder and leader of Fellow Flowers, a nationwide running community more than 30,000 women strong that celebrates their reasons for running. She recently launched Tell Her, a project that builds women up through the power of words. The first collection of cards is available September 12. Learn more about Tell Her on the project’s website, or Instagram.