History In The Making By Tracy Kaler

 

History in the Making

by Tracy Kaler

 

 

In 2010, as I lounged on the deck of a quaint cottage on the Long Island Sound

 

with my MacBook in front of me, a simple click on the mouse changed my future. I

 

was happily married, had a successful career, and I was finally living my dream

 

inManhattan.  I should have been satisfied, but there was a missing piece.

 

I’d planned to use some of the downtime during this vacation to write, which I

 

hadn’t done in a while. Like everyone, I’d gotten busy and pushed my favorite hobby to

 

the back burner of my life.

 

 

This was my first trip of any length to the Eastern End of Long Island. I’d read

 

and been told about theHamptons, but knew nothing about theNorth Fork. Once I

 

arrived, I was immediately smitten. The beauty and solitude of this special place inspired

 

me on that June day in Peconic. I began a blog, and without much thought, entitled it

 

“Tracy’s New York Life.” I started with one piece that I’d written several years earlier.

 

After I hit publish for the first time, I wondered what would happen. Would anyone

 

read it? Would I publish again? I forgot about the blog and didn’t go back until

 

almost one year later.

 

 

Long before blogs existed, writing wasn’t in my cards and I had a one-track

 

mind. As a young aspiring ballerina, I planned to move toNew   York City

 

following my senior year in high school, audition and hopefully land a job

 

dancing professionally. As much as I hated schoolwork and had no desire to

 

continue past 12th grade, I enjoyed writing essays, term papers, and most any

 

assignment part of my AP English syllabus. It’s unbelievable that I’d never considered

 

writing for a career until more than twenty years later.

 

 

My love affair withNew   Yorkbegan in the late 1970s when I made a trip for the first time

 

to attend a dance convention. I knew that I’d live here eventually. I spent additional time

 

throughout my teen years inManhattanas a ballet student, but things never quite fell into

 

place for me. I struggled. I cried every time I left the city, always counting the days until

 

the next trip. I knew that it was indeed my destiny, and I longed for that destiny to begin

 

as soon as possible. I’ve always wondered what my life would’ve been like had I moved

 

toNew Yorkin the 1980s. I often still wonder. But in this great journey called life, timing

 

is everything. In 1984, it wasn’t on my side. It wasn’t my moment.

 

 

A batch of good karma finally brought me toNew   Yorkas a resident in 2007, at the age

 

of forty. After living for more than a decade inAtlanta, it couldn’t have been a better time.

 

Although I’d dreamt of being inManhattansince a young age, now I was really ready.

 

Ready to dive in, forget the familiar, and build a future inNew York. At last, it was my

 

moment. I was finally living the life I’d imagined, but the over-achiever in me still

 

wasn’t challenged. I had a big job and was earning real money. Although I could pay

 

my bills, I wasn’t fulfilled. I was playing a part that wasn’t me, much like an actor

 

attempting to be a waiter. Somewhere buried deep inside, a writer was dying to be read.

 

Not long after my move, I began drafting weekly updates about my life inNew Yorkand

 

emailing each to family and friends. Even though I received lots of positive feedback,

 

becoming a writer was far in the back of my mind at that time. It took several more years

 

until fate stepped in.

 

 

In 2011, frustrated with my day job at the time, I found my way back to the blog. The

 

collection of stories that I’d drafted during my first year of life inNew York, and that blog I

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