I cried in my room for hours; I thought my life was coming to an end, and I was powerless to stop it. It took the worst of situations to force me back to my roots, to the one thing that I choose to define myself by. That’s when I picked up my pen, and slowly began to write. Through watery, stinging, tear-filled eyes I wrote about leaving my friends, my home, and my life. Leaving for a place that wouldn’t be filled with familiar faces, or a sense of security. A place called high school.
When I started writing that day, I wasn’t writing with a specific purpose or reason in mind. That, I knew I would find along the way. I used writing to figure out what exactly was causing my pain; I trusted writing, and writing alone. As I re-read my jumbled words and nonsense phrases, I began to connect the thoughts flooding my mind. Writing allowed me to take a step back from my life, if only for a little while. It gave me the peace of mind to grieve, and to accept.
I can honestly say that my belief in writing has never been challenged. I wrote when my grandfather died. I wrote to get through my seventh grade year. I wrote when my first pet died. I wrote when I thought I had nothing to write about, and discovered that I would always have something to write about. Through many challenging times, my belief in writing has never wavered. And who am I to let it? Something so intrinsic shouldn’t ever leave you. This, I believe.
Writing is something I have largely taught myself over the years. It amazes me how something that runs so deeply in my spirit doesn’t even touch the spiritual surface of anyone in my family. My parents even went as far as to tell me to stop writing when I was younger. “Go outside and play. Get fresh air. It will be good for you.” I heard this time and time again. And time and time again, I wrote more fervently than ever.
Writing is an international way of expression. Prominent author Jesse Stuart once said, “Write something to suit yourself and many people will like it; write something to suit everybody and scarcely anyone will care for it.” It doesn’t matter why you write, how you write, or even in what language you write. It just matters that you write. Write to grieve. Write to remember. Write to forget. Write to forgive. Write to live.
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