Storytelling | Colleen Hindsley

What's Your Story?

#4 Is This The Real Life?

I’ve had a corporate job of one kind or another since moving to NYC in 1995. Back then, I called them “Survival Jobs” or, more frequently, "Day Jobs." As if I had some spectacular artist-life during the evening hours. I didn’t - but I sure thought about it a lot. I wanted to write. I wanted to tell stories. I wanted to sing and get better at the guitar and maybe write songs. But, that all seemed scary and fantastical. I needed to be practical. I needed dental. I had to focus on my Real Life, not the fantasy. The Day Jobs gradually turned into a “Good Job” which then became a career in Pharmaceutical Advertising. I stayed at one company for more than 15 years. It was a great job, a great com

#3 I'm A Night Owl, Honey

I’m a toddler, finally sleeping in a big-girl bed, long tucked in for the night. My parents are working late at the bar, leaving my 4 older sisters in charge. As they get ready for bed themselves, some still doing homework, they see a yellow blur streaking down the hall. Then, footie pajama-covered footsteps thumping down the stairs. Moments later, the familiar strains of tv theme music drift upward. One of the girls confronts me, hand on hip, saying “What do you think you’re doing?” My reply, of course: “Watching Carson.” Once I can read, all bets are off. I’m awake well into the wee hours devouring Nancy Drew mysteries or whatever contraband book I’ve stolen from one of the older girls. Mo

#2 Russian Dolls

Coming into 2019, I made a radical decision: No New Year's resolutions. It’s radical because, like many people, I have been resolving to improve myself annually, if not daily, since I was 11 years old. Usually, the resolutions are around my physical body. Specifically, the reduction of it through a variety of restrictive diets, cleanses, “clean eating” regimens, challenges, etc. For most of my life, the size of my body has been the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think of as I’m drifting off to sleep. Just writing that makes my heart hurt a little. Over the last couple of years, though, I’ve been slowly, slowly, so slowly letting go of that obsession. Letting go

# 1 January

January is the natural time when we feel compelled to start fresh. It’s named for Janus, a Roman god who symbolizes beginnings, transitions, doorways, All that cool clean slate, fresh start stuff. But unlike September, when I get the urge to buy school supplies, January sends me to bed- literally. I could sleep the day away under my weighted blanket (have you heard of this? Game changer. This deserves its own post. Stay tuned for that.). I look at January as training for February, which I sometimes refer to as “the month of no will to live.” February sucks. It’s short, but bleak. Polar vortexes loom, credit card bills from winter holidays and gift-giving come due. And Valentine’s Day. Don’t

What's Your Story?

#70 Whenever This World is Cruel to Me

#69 Nobody Knows It, Nobody Knows

#68 None of You Stand So Tall

#4 Is This The Real Life?

#3 I'm A Night Owl, Honey

#2 Russian Dolls

# 1 January

Slide into my DMs.