My old blog. Good lord, that thing makes me cringe just thinking about it.

I was so open. So vulnerable. So darn honest. Most of the time I want to block my words and thoughts from my mind because they serve as an over-sized slice of humble pie. I was just a girl trying to make sense of leaving law school and taking the biggest risk I could dream of: Starting my photography business.

There are entries I’m still totally embarrassed about—days when I worry about my future, days when my camera speaks Bengali and I’m strictly monolingual, days when I want someone to take me under their wings and teach me the craft. While there are still moments I worry about my future, I’m so blessed to say my camera is learning to speak English and, though no one took my under their wings to mentor me, it worked out for the best. Instead of having just one person to look up to, I took tidbits of conversations with friends, combined them with vast internet searches, sprinkled knowledge of OSP Forum, and pretty much taught myself.

Yesterday I received the sweetest email from a blog reader asking a sincere question. While it’s IMPOSSIBLE to respond to every email I receive, her email struck a chord, so I responded as honestly as I could. I also sent her a link to my old blog to encourage her. Because, really, I was 100% real when I documented my emotions, fears and frustrations.

The reader responded with a highlighted portion from a February 2006 entry: “Money should never be an issue when dreams are concerned and, JD says, I've given him another reason to wake up and go to work. To him, my aspirations don't have a pricetag.”

When I re-read this sentence I choked up. Good Lord. Here I sit two years later and the man I loved then is the man I love even more now. JD was—and is—the impetus of my dream-catching. I am doing what I love because of his support and care. And his big, swift kick to my pants!

This morning—just like the mornings of two years ago—JD woke up and went to work. Because my dreams still don’t have a pricetag.