10 years ago today, November 15, 2005, I wrote and published my very first blog post.

No one knew but me. And that was enough. Because when I started, that was all that mattered. I needed a space in which I could tell my truth. I found it.

How could I have predicted that this space and telling my truth would push me, compel me, strengthen me, challenge me, and change me as it has? How could I have guessed both have been the vehicle through which I have met some of my forever dearest friends? How could I have anticipated the way in which one small post would turn into 1065 of them (as of today)? And how could I have ever known that for all its evolution, for all my own, that one thing would remain the same? It was then and is still a space in which I tell my truth.

Gratefully, amazingly, miraculously that truth has changed so much over the years! Gratefully, amazingly, miraculously I have, as well.

10 years ago, I was 44.

10 years ago, there was no gray in my hair.

10 years ago, my daughters were 9 and 7.

10 years ago, I had just finished my Masters program.

10 years ago, I had just started a new job.

10 years ago, I was still married – about to celebrate my 13th anniversary.

10 years ago, I had no thought of being a divorcee – or a single mom – or an entrepreneur – or a writer.

10 years ago, I had no conception of subscribers or Notes From Her, or SacredReadings, or SacredConversations, or a SacredMuse App.

10 years ago, I had no idea that I would beprivileged enough to give a TEDx talk or feel so profoundly humbled every single day to work with clients (that I LOVE).

10 years ago, my very first post consisted of only four sentences and 78 words:

I’m always so impressed that people find the time to blog; to write meaningful reflections about their lives, their thoughts, their questions, their musings, their joys, their frustrations. I want to be one of those people too. I have a life, thoughts, questions, musings, joys, and frustrations – and so much more. Maybe this will be a place where I can share those with others and, in the process, begin to understand them better myself. May it be so.

All of this has been so – and then some.

I would be remiss to let this significant marker pass without extending an arms-flung-wide-open embrace to you. The days are long gone in which I write only for me (at least here).

And gratefully, amazingly, miraculously that has transformed me. You have. Thank you.

Here’s to the next 10. *clink*

May it be so.