Coaches and Classes XIV

I woke before my alarm and I felt nauseous either from excitement or anxiety...such a fine line.  Cleo was sleeping on top of my blankets and I was trapped, but I didn't feel like moving anyway.  I reviewed my pages until I could recite them...what will this all mean?  I liked my writing but I got into the habit of reading it so much that it started to bore me and that's not good because that is when I tend to over edit.  Being untrained makes me feel lost but I also like that I am not confined to rules of writing...I wondered if my coach would slowly train me into becoming a traditional writer.  I like my coach; she is this amazing woman who ignites a fire in me that makes me feel empowered and strong...like Angela...like all the incredible women that I get to call my friends.  She has heard every dirty, dark, crazy secret I have and becomes just as excited as I when I am telling them.  It's as if she allows my creativity to play without judgment or boundaries and I feel safe telling her things I am too afraid to write.  I could feel the tears fall down the sides of my face, but I am not sad...I'm relieved...