Playwright

“I wrote plays,” I said to my boys.

We were watching the Tony Awards and my mind was swept away.

There was a time before I was “Mom”. A time I daydreamed about rushing off to New York City and pursuing an MFA. I even started the application process.

But this small town Midwestern white girl got in her head. I wondered who would care about what I care about. The small things, little moments, love, deep things, serious thoughts.

I wasn’t gay, queer, borderline this or that. I wasn’t West Coast or East Coast. I wasn’t, I believed, interesting. Not anywhere close to their level of interesting.

I also didn’t think I’d be good in a tiny apartment. With one bed, three roommates, and rats for pets. Suffering for my art was something I couldn’t do. Not like that anyway.

But as I watch these plays, Broadway shows. Actors and actresses and directors and writers – I want my boys to know.

I wrote plays once, and maybe someday again…