Tag: give up

My Reason To Write

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I’ve been feeling a little lost lately. In a sea of tones and styles I adapt everyday to take on my career as a writer, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to sound like myself.

On a local blogging community, when I asked for help, someone said, “Think about why you started writing.”

I was 6 when my cousin walked in and said she’s going to be a journalist. I was not sure what a journalist did. I didn’t know how to pronounce it. But at that moment, I told myself ‘This is the dream’ !

Over the years, the idea of a journalist didn’t seem so appealing but I never stopped wanting to write. I failed every class in high school, I always passed English. I began writing my first book when I was 14. A cheesy love story about the girl with a dream. I still can’t believe I let my friends read it.

When I was upset, writing became my mental health specialist. It healed me in ways that people couldn’t.

When I was happy, it became my secret friend. I could pour out everything for hours and not have a care in the world about judgemental behaviour. When I was a teenager, writing was my one true best friend. If my parents didn’t understand, if my boyfriend didn’t text, if my friends were being bitchy – I could just always write about it. When I saw the man, who I believed was the love of my life, with another girl on his arm, words became the shoulder I leaned on.

It’s almost ridiculous to think I gave up. For a while there, I told myself it wasn’t for me. That I was meant for something more conventional rather than creative. But life caught up with me.

At my worst, I turned to words again. This blog became my sanctuary. The people I got to connect with. This is my world away from my world. This is where I am true to myself because social situations may fail me, but words never did.

I began writing my thoughts, troubles and tales. It was supposed to be my personal diary on a public platform.

But along the way, something changed. Something inspired me. I started hearing people tell me how they’d needed to hear what I’d written. And I felt something. It made me want to be a writer again. It reminded me about my first poem. It reminded me about something very emotional. It reminded me why I began.

And it wasn’t a lost cause. It wasn’t random or silly. I didn’t write just because I needed an outlet. I didn’t write to make memories unforgettable.

I began writing my first book when I was 14. It was a cheesy love story about the girl with a dream. She struggled. She fought her way through life. She chased her dream with all she had. And she made it. I wrote that book because I wanted to give hope to those who didn’t have it at that moment. I wanted to let people know that if you fought hard and refused to give up, you’d find your dreams, no matter what. I wanted to inspire someone to chase their dreams.

This is my reason to write.

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I began writing because I believed that words can change the world. That it can change lives.

And I wanted to prove it.

I will.

Life goes on..

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Today, May 4, is the birthday of someone very very close to me. “Happy Birthday bro..” It’s been a while since I met him and when he saw me he said, “You look bright. Full of hope. It’s nice to see you like this again.”

Last year I had to give up almost everything I had. My plans changed, my life changed. I spent the entire year in depression. Everything made me cry. There was a point when I believed things will never change. That my life was over and all I have to do is sit and just let the end come when it may. Now when I say it, I realize how over-dramatic that sounds. But at that point in my life it seemed like the most logical thought process one can ever have at a time like that.

It’s funny how when something bad happens, we believe that it’s the end. I’m not talking about a fatal sickness or an accident but rather just incidents. When you quit / get expelled from university, when you get fired, when you break up with your loved one, when someone close to you passes away or even when you fail an exam or miss your dream university by 2 points. It seems like a life or death situation. I mean, I get that it possibly is very life altering but it’s never the end.

It took me one and half years of moping around before I decided that I have to change things. ONE AND HALF YEARS ! You know how much I could’ve done in one day? Let alone 500 days ! 500 days before I realized it’s not the end because it’s not happy. That in fact, all I had to do was accept that things have changed. Because the only thing constant in our lives is change and the best I can do is to make use of all that I’ve got. I mean, I’m sure I could’ve sat around another year and half dreaming of what could’ve been but that’s just another 500 days that I won’t get back.

In my life, I’ve learnt that there’s nothing better than dreaming big. Dream what nobody dares to dream of. Dream to fly. Like Peter Pan. To just take off to Neverland. But that’s impossible if you never put your feet on the ground. Even a flight has to hit the runway, move forward and only then can it fly. Sitting idle and wondering about would-be’s and could-have-been’s will never get you anywhere. You have to put one foot in front of the other and walk forward.

I’m not a settler. I’ve missed what many would call “incredible opportunities.” When my previous dream crashed, I had to get a new one. I wasn’t, and I’m still not, mentally prepared to create a big dream again. I’m afraid that it’ll crash too. So I set my goals a little lower. Instead of a big future plan, I set my eyes on simpler things. Things that are more NOW than five to ten years from now – A company that’s not really easy to get into. A publisher that probably won’t even take a second look at my manuscript. I told myself that I won’t take anything besides this. I will get into that company if it’s the last thing I did. I will send the publisher every story I will ever write and at some point, I’m going to write something they will publish.

Think back the years you’ve lived through. How many moments have you had where you thought it’s the end of the world and it wasn’t? No, I’m not talking about December 22, 2012. I mean, you’ve lived through tough times. You’ve moved forward when you thought you wouldn’t. You’re alive and present. When you think about it you’ll realize that all those bad experiences have only made you stronger. Brave. Never weak.

Two years ago, I had it all. I didn’t work as hard as I could have. I didn’t make use of the opportunities. Now I can’t go back. I have to look ahead and I feel stronger than I ever did. Positive that if I could live through that, then I’m sure I can live through the next disaster and the next and the next. Because.. Have you ever sat in front of the ocean and stared at it? You know how beautiful and mentally soothing a view like that is? The way the waves move and hit the shore. The salty smell that comes from it.. Now, imagine sitting in front of the same ocean but this time, it’s still. No waves, no sea salt smell. Just still water. It’s not as beautiful, is it?! That’s life too. It has to have its ups and downs. I promise every wave has something incredible to give to you. A life lesson, a person, a memory.. And when you look at it as a whole, it’s beautiful.

No matter sunny or rainy, draught or storms, the waves in the ocean never stops.. The way, no matter how hard it gets, no matter how many times you tell yourself it’s over, life goes on..