Someday, Gathered

When I look back at the path that brought me here—to this blog, to these stories, to the book quietly growing behind the scenes—I can see just how many “somedays” were scattered along the way. Some were hopeful. Some were excuses. Some were wild daydreams I didn’t dare tell anyone.

I spent years saying things like:
Someday I’ll start that blog.
Someday I’ll write that book.
Someday I’ll have the courage to share what I’m really feeling.

Those words followed me through long nights, busy seasons, and quiet mornings staring at a blank screen. They kept me dreaming, but they also kept me waiting.

And then—slowly, without any grand announcement—I stopped saying someday and began.

A blog post here. A paragraph there. A story idea I couldn’t shake. Suddenly “someday” wasn’t far away anymore; it was happening in real time, in the mess and magic of my everyday life.

As I wrote this series, I realized that every face of someday had been part of my writing journey.

• The lantern of hope that nudged me to start.
• The drawer where I tucked all the half-drafts and fragile ideas.
• The mirage of the book on the horizon that felt impossible until it didn’t.
• And the quiet truth—the whisper—that life still has more to offer, more to say, more to become.

Now, when I think about someday, it feels less like a future promise and more like a companion. Something that walks with me as I write, reminding me that I am already inside the dream I once thought I had to chase.

All my somedays, gathered.
Not perfect. Not finished.
But finally alive.

— The Wallflower