I have been struggling for months (okay years really) on my various stories. I have journaled on and off for years.

In my quest for anything that would help me trigger memories, stories, or emotions, I searched or journaling prompts. I found
the Blog’s title at trycreativewritting.com (catchy url). The prompt caught my eye. It’s something prolific my mother would say.
I started at 11 to write a few prolific words in my lock-key dairy things like: “Went to school today.” I would do anything for those old diaries and notebooks. I like most teenagers in the 1970s had emotion angst about David Cassidy and Donny Osmond, that my world was sure to come to an end if I never met them or be able to watch “The Partridge Family” or any variety show with Osmonds in their line-up.
Unfortunately most of my earliest journals were lost, after my mother found a copy of the book, My Mother, MySelf by Nancy Friday. Mother, a devout Puerto Rican Catholic, (yeah they are different strand of Catholicism) was very upset thinking that I (at the time the tender age of 18) was blaming her for all my life troubles. I was my mother’s oldest and a daughter at that who was trying to search for life’s meaning at a tender young age. My mom’s goal was make sure I would not be another statistic; less than 10% of Puerto Ricans in NYC graduated from High School, less than 1% of them went on to college; the unwed teenage pregnancy among Puerto Rican girls was astronomical (something like 50%).
My early journalling expressed my fears of not becoming a statistic and getting an education my own mother was denied by her father.
How could I achieve that goal when every day was the same? Every morning followed night. Every night followed day.

Forty years later, I did perserve. But I became another statistic. A NY woman of Puerto Rican descent who graduated from college, attained an MBA and has a successful career in technology.
Just taking one step at a time, one day after another.
What will tomorrow bring?