Stepping Outside the Pages

Stepping Outside the Pages

Tomorrow.

And I can feel it in my chest.

Not just excitement…

but something deeper. Something that sits right underneath it.

Nervousness. Vulnerability. Exposure.

This isn’t just a book signing.

This is me… stepping out from behind the pages.

For so long, my story has lived in safe spaces.

On paper.

On screens.

In moments where I could control the narrative, edit the words, take a breath before pressing publish.

But tomorrow?

There is no buffer.

It’s me. In real time.

In front of people who know me…

people who think they know me…

and people who are about to meet a version of me I’ve only recently come to understand myself.

And that feels… terrifyingly amazing.

I’m not just showing up as an author.

I’m showing up as a woman learning how to live again.

A woman navigating a body and a reality that doesn’t always cooperate.

A woman who doesn’t “look” like what she’s going through… but feels it in every step, every glance, and every moment of uncertainty.

There’s no hiding behind familiarity tomorrow.

No retreating back into what’s comfortable.

I am exposing myself to my own community… in person.

Without filters. Without distance. Without the quiet protection of being unseen.

And if I’m honest?

Part of me wants to shrink back.

To stay where it’s safe.

To keep my story contained in the pages where it can’t be questioned, misunderstood, or stared at too long.

But there’s another part of me…

The part that wrote this book.

The part that keeps choosing to move forward anyway.

That part is louder.

That part is saying:

This is why you wrote it.

Not to hide.

Not to whisper.

But to stand.

Even if my voice shakes.

Even if my steps are uncertain.

Even if I don’t feel fully ready.

Maybe readiness isn’t the requirement.

Maybe obedience is.

Maybe courage isn’t about feeling confident…

but about showing up while your heart is racing and your hands are still trembling.

Tomorrow, I am doing something I cannot undo.

I am letting people see me.

Not just the polished version.

Not just the strong version.

But the real version.

The one who is still learning.

Still grieving.

Still adjusting.

Still becoming.

And somehow… in the middle of all of that…

Still moving forward.

So if you see me tomorrow, just know:

This moment means more than a signature.

More than a book.

More than a quick conversation.

It is a step.

A big one.

And I’m taking it anyway.

And if you feel led to, come see me tomorrow.

Not just as an author, but as a person. 

In real time. 

In real space.

No filters. 

No distance.

This moment isn’t just mine. It belongs to everyone who has followed this journey, supported me, and felt seen through these pages.

I would love to meet you there.

~ Leslie A. Council 🖤