Time To Own It

I sat staring at my computer screen, cursor blinking on two different website domains. Such a simple choice—but my hands were shaking. 

Why was choosing between “Life Over Here” and my author name hitting me so hard? 

Because this wasn’t really about a website. It was about finally being seen.

For too long, I’ve lived like a shadow in my own life slowly forgetting who I am. 

I’m the one making sure everyone at the dinner table has sweet tea, the one remembering every birthday, the one smoothing ruffled feathers at family gatherings. 

The one who makes sure everyone else shines while staying safely in the background. 

Like many country-raised Southern women, I learned early to be the gracious hostess, the supportive mother, the perpetual giver. 

And somewhere between Sunday breakfast and bedtime stories, I lost myself.

Even in my writing—this dream I’ve carried since I was a little girl scribbling stories under the ancient cottonwood tree at the edge of our cotton field—I hesitated to fully step forward. 

Should I use my married name, Spain, that I’ve kept for my children’s sake these past fifteen years since the divorce? 

Or should I reclaim my maiden name, Chambers, and with it the memories of daddy bringing momma fresh tomatoes from his garden, momma cooking his favorite country meals with love, listening to old men gossiping in the barber shop on Saturday afternoons, peach trees blooming in the spring, and summer evenings filled with storytelling and lightning bugs?

The truth is, that married name carries the weight of an abusive past, years of dimming my light to keep the peace, of shrinking myself to be “acceptable.” 

In contrast, this dream of writing, of sharing stories, has lived in my heart since those childhood days when the cotton swayed in the breeze and my imagination ran wild and free.

When I finally started writing about small Southern communities, about kitchen table conversations that heal hearts and family gatherings that bring second chances, something woke up inside me. 

These weren’t just stories—they were the essence of everything my parents taught me about love, family, and resilience. Every time I write about a family dinner or a garden harvest, I can hear momma’s laugh and daddy’s gentle wisdom.

In my stories, you’ll find pieces of my childhood—watching the satisfaction on daddy’s face as he inspected his crops, the joy of picking up pecans on crisp fall mornings, the comfort of momma’s kitchen on a rainy day. 

My characters live in small towns, but they know the peace of country roads and open fields. 

They understand that love grows like daddy’s tomatoes—with patience, care, and deep roots.

Looking at those website options again, I suddenly understood. I’m not just choosing a domain name. 

I’m choosing to honor the little girl who grew up in a house full of love out in the country. 

I’m choosing to celebrate the parents who showed me what real love looks like. 

I’m choosing to embrace my Southern heritage, where even hard conversations come with sweet tea and pound cake, and where strength often wears a Sunday dress and pearls.

Sometimes the journey back to yourself starts with something as simple as a name. 

So here I am… Mary Kaye Chambers, romance author, daughter of amazing parents, proud Southerner, and woman finally ready to own her story.

It’s time to own it, y’all. Every blessed bit of it.

YOUR TURN: Have you ever had a moment when you realized it was time to reclaim some part of yourself you’d set aside? I’d love to hear your story in the comments below.