Rusty

Last night my dad went with me to pick up an old bicycle I found for sale on the internet. It is old. It is rusty. It will need a lot of work and time. I'm so excited.

On the drive home my dad said, "You should be a writer Nicole." At first I was confused. A writer? Me? He reads my writing in my journal? Then it dawned on me, He reads my blog duh. But how I see it, my writing is like that rusty bike sitting in a pile in the corner of my garage right now. It's rusty. It's not shiny, new and exciting with lots of bells and whistles. The people that like my writing are the people that love me most, so it's not hard for them to see past the rust. They read my writing and see the beauty underneath. Strangers looking at my writing, well I think they might only see the rust. Who knows, maybe someday people will look at my rust and really like it. I'm open to it. And my dad's compliment last night opened me up to that.

Thank you dad for seeing past the rusty bike!