Showing posts with label Kelly Williamson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kelly Williamson. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Living Outside of Your Comfort Zone (guest post Kelly Williamson)

It is with the utmost clarity that I recall the moment my junior-year English teacher asked me to see her after class.  I was certain I had messed something up, missed a due date, failed miserably at reciting my memorized poem with any degree of style.  My heart was racing; I hate confrontation, still do to this day.  The words she uttered were not even close to what I expected.

"Do you have any idea how talented you are? This piece is one of the best I've read since I started teaching high school.  This could be your direction, your future."

Talk about being taken off guard.  I was flattered, though I didn't follow that path. I went into education, a decision I will never regret.  At times throughout my life, however, I have wondered what would have happened if I had taken her advice, had become a writer right off the bat. 

Reflecting on a Ship That Sailed
I assumed that, because I did not go to school for writing, that I was simply reflecting on a ship that had sailed for me.  That is, until I participated in last April's Platform Challenge, run by Robert Lee Brewer.  The challenge consisted of daily tasks, all of which would help writers build their platforms; get their author brand out into the world.

Just a few months before this challenge, I had started blogging about a difficult situation in my life, largely because it was helping me process the unimaginable.  That's when I started to think that perhaps, one day, I could write a book about all of it and somehow make a difference.  It seemed farfetched and lofty, but it was a thought.  

I don't even recall how I found Robert's challenge, but as I looked into it, I learned that an aspiring author is advised to build a platform to help readers to get to know you and your writing, and that it can help you sell a manuscript or land an agent.  A platform can help you to become a known entity in the world of writing.  I read more about the challenge, and I did hesitate.  I am really a quiet person by nature, and I have never believed my writing to be much more than really great for a high school junior; never expected to have an audience beyond my own friends and family. 

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Jumping Outside the Comfort Zone
I was driven by my topic, though, and I took a leap of faith, jumping into it with an open mind, even though doing so was entirely outside of my comfort zone.   Before the challenge, only family and friends were aware of and read my blog, and that felt safe.  Through the platform challenge, I was taking real-life steps to expose my writing to many more people, strangers and experienced writers.  I was on guard, and I was gearing up for constructive criticism in an area where I didn't have much confidence in the first place.

The opposite happened, however, and I gained amazing things as the challenge progressed.  I was connecting with new people and writing resources, getting positive feedback about my writing, and building enough confidence to provide feedback to others.  By the end of the challenge, I had grown by leaps and bounds, not only as a writer, but as a person.

As the challenge ended, I reflected a lot on the experiences and lessons of the month previous, and I was able to recognize my biggest take-away:  Living outside of my comfort zone, though scary, opens doors.  I started living a little more openly, with more confidence, and outside of what felt safe.  I had no idea how much it would change my life.

Living Outside That Zone
This past Christmas, one much better than our last sorrow-filled Christmas, my daughter bought me tickets to see Daughtry and 3 Doors Down.  I am a huge music fan, and Daughtry is one of my favorites.  I, in turn, bought us a VIP package to meet the bands.  As the concert approached, I started paying a little more attention to Chris Daughtry on Twitter, getting excited for the show, and I saw that he was just completing a fitness challenge with trainer Jen Hendershott.  This caught my interest.  One thing I had let go when tragedy struck my family was my health and fitness.

The concert came, we met the bands, and I actually struck up a little conversation with Chris about his challenge; another bold move on my part.  I followed that up with an e-mail to his trainer, asking about advice for getting back to a healthier fitness level.  I wanted to find a positive outlet to better heal on the inside, while also taking care of my body in a healthier way. We came up with a great plan, and my new fitness challenge blog was born.  It was a whirlwind, and I recall thinking "Is this really happening?  Did I just sign on to be trained by a fitness champion, and hold myself accountable on a blog?" 

Yes, that really happened, and then some.  Not only did I find a positive way to heal and a friend to guide me through it, but I also signed a publishing contract to write that memoir, the one I dreamed could maybe make a difference. 

My dreams have become my reality, and it never would have happened if I hadn't stepped outside of my comfort zone and followed Robert's advice.  I will forever be grateful for this experience and the lifelong affect it has had on my life.

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Kelly Williamson is an Assistant Principal and writer who lives in Massachusetts with her husband and two children.  She has written short stories, personal essays, and is currently working on a memoir that depicts the tragic situation her family found itself in just over a year ago.  As she works to move on, Kelly has a strong will to use her writing as a way to help others in similarly difficult situations.   Digging deep to find strength, she has begun to redirect her focus on the many positive things in life, including her writing, her loving family, and her desire to live a healthier, more active lifestyle. You can connect with Kelly on Facebook, Twitter, and her two blogs: www.kellyannwilliamson.blogspot.com and www.journeywithjenh.blogspot.com.

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Also, check out other previous Not Bob posts:

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Knowing What Is Best: The Value of Another's Perspective (Life Changing Moments Series)

The following story from Kelly Williamson is one that speaks to me personally, though I'll refrain from giving away her story since she does an excellent job of presenting it herself. Kelly is an assistant principal at an elementary school, a new position she took after teaching for 10 years. She's always loved to write, and for much of her life considered writing a hobby, working on short stories, picture books, and personal narratives for her own enjoyment. As a teacher, she shared much of her writing with her students. She's always had the philosphy that a writing teacher has to be a writer first and use that material as a way to exemplify the process for students. Kelly's family is currently dealing with the effects of her mother's sudden mental breakdown and refusal to seek treatment. Her mother's complete change in personality has been a tragic loss, and this experience has drawn Kelly into writing with a passion greater than she's ever felt. Learn more about Kelly via her blog, http://kellyannwilliamson.blogspot.com/.


Kelly Williamson, mother/daughter

Christmas morning at our house has always been joyful, even when my husband and I were first starting out and had little extra to spend. For me, it’s never been about the gifts but having time to enjoy and appreciate special moments with family. The anticipation of seeing my children walk into the living room to gaze at the wonders Santa has left usually causes me to lose sleep on Christmas Eve. This year, I lost sleep, but more because of a painful realization that this Christmas was going to be difficult. Waking up that morning, I had no idea how right I was to dread the events about to play out.

Several days before Christmas, my mother was hospitalized in a mental health facility for the second time in as many months. The pain of that reality consumed my family in the days leading up to the holiday, but we were all doing our best to preserve what we could for the sake of my two children. They would miss the big turkey dinner at my parent’s house and all the festivity that went with it. The day would not be the same, but we had to try. My mother had made it clear: She did not want to see any of us, but we had a plan, and we were ready to put on brave faces for the sake of the kids. Then, the phone rang.

A Decision to Make
The sound of my mother’s voice was comforting, though her words were agonizing, “I know I said I didn’t want to see you today, but this is my favorite holiday. Can you come see me? I want to see the kids.”

My husband was in the shower, readying himself for the day, when she called. “Who was that on the phone?”

I explained to him that she had called and wanted us to bring the kids to see her. I told him how she had a room set aside for the visit. He looked down at the floor, and I knew I was asking too much, yet there I stood, asking. As he looked me in the eyes, I could see the mix of emotions he felt at that moment. It was hard for him to see me in such pain, and he had done everything in his power to help me through this tragedy, but this was more than he could give.

“I cannot let you bring the kids there. That is not a place for them, and certainly not on Christmas Day. You can go, but the kids are staying with me.”

Giant tears rolled down my cheeks, raw from the sheer amount of time spent crying over the last several weeks, but I knew he was right. I had never been inside the hospital, and I had no idea what to expect. I was apprehensive about going myself, afraid of what I’d see. My head knew he was right, though my heart was torn apart.

We plodded our way through the day, making a few stops before ending up at my sister’s house for dinner. Dad wasn’t going to join us for dinner or presents; it was too painful for him, but he’d be there later so we could ride to the hospital together. My daughter, old and perceptive enough to get the gist of what was going on, asked if she could come with us to visit. I hugged her and told her she couldn’t, and as I peered over her shoulder, my sister nodded in agreement.

I could feel my heart pounding as I saw Dad’s headlights pull into my sister’s driveway. I once again approached my husband, asking if he was sure the kids shouldn’t go; it was Christmas, there was a room set aside. He was steadfast in his position, and I did not push.

As Dad came into the house, his face revealed the kind of day he’d had. “Ready?”

We grabbed our coats from the closet, and I had trouble making eye-contact. I knew he was wondering, and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Are the kids coming?”

“No. It’s not the place for them.”

“Okay, let’s get going. She’s expecting us.”

No Turning Back
As we drove, the car was mostly silent. At one point, my dad asked how the kids were doing. My sister mentioned how my daughter had wanted to come with us. My dad replied that we probably should have let her come, and my heart splintered into pieces. As we pulled into the parking lot, I was second-guessing my decision. Should I have tried harder to convince my husband? I felt paralyzed in the car, but I managed my way into the building, my heart beating out of control.

The buzzer sounded, and I saw her through the narrow window in the door, hair done up and wearing a festive red sweater. She smiled when she saw us, but I could see the look of concern as she came closer to the door.

“Where are the kids?” Her face was distraught. “Are they coming?”

“No, Mom, they aren’t coming. It’s been a rough day on them. They don’t understand what’s going on.”

She stormed down the hall and around the corner to the community room, where she sat at the head of a long table. We took seats around her and tried to make small talk, but she wouldn’t look at us. She was rummaging through a bag, pulling out papers and making piles on the table. She started talking about this being yet another disappointment, and we should not have even come. We tried to engage her, but she wanted nothing to do with us. She told us to leave, and my dad and sister led the way toward the exit. I lagged behind as she packed up her papers. I wanted to explain to her why I couldn’t bring them, that I was sorry she was struggling, but she brushed by without a glance in my direction. She escorted us to the door, and I had broken down at that point. Finally, she looked directly into my eyes.

“Thanks for ruining my Christmas, Kelly.”

With that the doors opened, and some EMT’s rolled past us with a disheveled man strapped to a gurney, obviously a new admission to the unit. The doors closed behind us, and I wanted to rush back. Why was seeing me not enough? Couldn’t she see that the kids didn’t belong in a place like this? Instead, I crumbled in the elevator, sobbing harder than I had in years.

It Was the Right Choice
That was over four months ago, and I will say that it took me a long time to get over what happened on Christmas Day. Being in the position of having to choose between your mother and your children is an impossible one, but we all thank our lucky stars that my husband had the clarity of mind to make the right decision. I was so emotionally involved that I was not capable of making the best decision.

She wanted them there, and if it had been up to me they would have gone, and that would have been wrong. An environment like that is highly unpredictable, and they could have seen or heard things that could have been frightening. They would have seen a man strapped to a gurney. On Christmas Day. I would have regretted that decision.

In life, when things get emotionally charged, there is no substitute for the perspective of someone less involved. Emotions can cloud our judgment, they can prevent us from seeing clearly and making wise judgments. From this devastating situation I have taken this lesson, it will guide my way into the uncertain future, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

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Check out previous posts from the Life Changing Moments Series: