When I began writing it was inside of my diary. It was a notebook covered in purple and orange hearts. It came with a lock and key. I was around ten years old when a loved one gifted the notebook to me. When they handed me the notebook, they said “Write whatever you want in it”. Of course, at ten years old I didn’t know exactly what the value of the words they shared with me. Somehow those words stuck to me and refused to be moved.
I’d sit in the center of my bed and write my little heart out. The depth of my writing was limited to my ten year old perspective of the world. I was still figuring things out. Life was fuzzy and often blurred between what I saw on television and what I experienced in real life.
I remember vividly writing in my diary to grow up and become a beautiful person. Back then that only meant being glamorous and admired by men. My diary was my safe space to speak my mind. Although I didn’t understand half of what I wrote, it was the most rewarding feeling I ever experienced.
Over the years I allowed my writing to take a back seat in my life. I discovered boys, fashion, and money. All of those things had a time and a significant factor in my life. But, writing was always in the back of my mind.
As I discussed openly in my book Pieces Of Me :Things I’ve Learned Along The Way, I became someone I didn’t recognize or understand anymore because of an abusive relationship. I was drowning in a reality that I created for myself. I desperately needed to remedy the constant pain and agony I experienced frequently.
My writing in my diary days were long behind and I had so much to say about my life. With my son on my hip I opened up a word document and began to write.
Every morning, noon, and night I typed my heart out on my computer. When people ask me did you always know that you wanted to be a writer. I always answer honestly with a no. I wanted to be a author. But, that meant going back to school and a life of rejection from literary agents.
I like to tell people that writing saved me and God chose me to share my words. I didn’t have a clue on the direction I wanted to take my life. I was headed down a dark path and my dreams of publishing were being erased.
Writing saved me and gave me purpose because it gave me the permission to look within myself and question my existence. I learned to tune into that voice inside of me that said, “I have something to say and I should be allowed to say it.”
I always tell people three things :
1. God has a gift inside of you. You just have to be willing to go deep within to find it.
2. You don’t need other people to validate your writing. You just need the will to pick up the pen and pad.
3. Writing is self expression and your spirits freedom to move in this life.
I take all of these things with me. I may not write inside of a diary anymore. But, I write to remind myself that everything I am going through in life is preparing me for the next chapter. So, I write to hold on to the valuable lessons life is teaching me.
Write the words that make your heart sing and give others the reason to turn the page.
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Thank you for reading!