I Owe it to Myself to Write.

I love writing, I love putting stuff out into the world, whether it be creative or a review heck I even feel good when I write a good email. Yet I have this blog which I love and I just gave up on it. Life got busy and I thought I would pick it back up when things settled down, but I forgot to make room for it. I would write blog posts in my head but I would never do anything with it, and doing something in your head just isn't creating. Locking my ideas away just makes my head fill and fill until there is no room for anything else and I just feel disappointed in myself for ransoming my own creativity.

I feel one of the reasons I gave up on this, is I was starting to get a fair few hits per post and I knew some of those people were people I new IRL and to be honest I got a bit shy and embarrassed. I felt like people have one perception of me, and this blog shows a side that people don't expect, and I worry that people might think I was pretensions or fake.

But I owe this to me, this is something I really enjoy, something I would maybe like to turn into something more then a hobby one day. I want this to lead me into the world of writers where I can make friends and read amazing things by other people. Why should I stop because someone I knew five years ago may think what I am doing in childish or lame ?

Lets shake of the cobwebs and reclaim this

I deserve to write 

Rella Reads

The Next Chapter

After yet another time away from the world of the Internet I have returned. 
The past two weeks have been a crazy whirl wind of new experiences and excitement because on the 29th of September I moved from London to the Kent coast, into my very first flat with my boyfriend. 

Now I am no stranger to moving having now seven times in the past five years, but this one was particularly special as this time there are no house mates no shared kitchen no rush to be first in the bath room in the morning because it is just us to, and it is fantastic.

I remember when I was a kid I really wanted to move house, not because their was anything wrong with my childhood home but because I thought it would be exciting to choose a new room and paint it how I wanted and arrange my furniture in a new way. The idea of having a fresh space really excited me and I thought the process of moving looked fun as I couldn't quite fathom just how you pack up an entire house it just seemed impossible to me, I can now safely say I am somewhat of an expert in packing and moving. 

The thing is with this move I have ended up living in a place that I had never even considered moving to until August, and the idea just snow balled and when I came back form Scotland at the end of August within two weeks I had transferred my job over to Kent viewed about 8 flats and ended up signing some paper work, then I had two hectic weeks of packing up a room I had lived in for three years, say Goodbye to some utterly amazing friends from London and basically untangle myself from London's grasp and get ready to just slow down. 

My room in London

For once I am actually quite happy to be doing something that makes me more of an adult, having a flat makes me feel that I am actually making some progression in my life, I have moved away from my university, and left my student lifestyle behind. Honestly I feel so happy and content, I have the sea on my door step and I am feeling more positive then every about getting a decent job. The tides in my life are changing.

I look around me and I wonder how I managed to fit my whole life into one room, and so many things I have wanted to do for so long finally have a chance of happening. I have such a good feeling about this, and I look forward to being able to look back at my time in London with nostalgia and fond memories rather then remembering how stressful and depressing that city can be when you spend your days counting every penny to your name and realising you still don't have enough money.

This is what's at the end of my road!

This Chapter is going to be so very very good 

Rella

Xx