My Confessions as a Writer
When I was a little girl, I remember picking up a pen and paper out of pure impulse and writing a poem. I remember the night it happened, it was thunder storming and I was sitting on the floor, under a window listening to the rain hit the ground. At the time I lived with my parents and baby brother in the first place I ever called home, it was right in the middle of Scarborough. I remember writing about the passion of the thunder, and the soothing release of the rain. Believe it or not, these were my actual words and I was about seven years old. I know right, what in the world did I know about the passion of the thunder at seven years old? I kept it up though; I just kept writing little poems and my thoughts whenever I felt inspired. I would write about the things that brought me pain, but I would code my words to make it seem like it was about someone else.
Meanwhile all of this was happening; my parents were going through their first separation. I wanted to escape I guess, I didn’t want to be present to watch my world shatter into pieces and the only way I knew how was through my writing. It became very sacred to me, as it was my only true release and whenever I did write, I put my heart and soul into it. For some creatives that outlet varies, it could be dance, painting, photography, singing, etc. Whatever the case may be this was mine and it meant the world to me. I think deep down I always wanted to share my words with people, but no one ever wanted to listen or read. I kept trying even through my teenage years, but people always seemed too busy or not interested enough. I believed that my story was incredible, and not at all what people would expect. I wanted so badly for it to be known, but after being shut down so many times I found myself lost and discouraged. I shied away from my passion and put it on the back burner; I tried to find something else to put in its place. Even though I gained a substantial amount life experience by trying to figure out an alternate route, I was never truly happy enough to care about anything else. I learned that I’m extremely adaptable and would figure out my own way to be good enough at everything, but I longed for that greatness.
It was only a few months ago that I discovered my second true love; people. I love connecting with people and getting to know them for who they are underneath their daily masks. When I did attend post-secondary school, I took quite the liking to my psychology courses. I enjoyed the concept of being able to understand someone based off of their body language or the minor details in their actions that actually screamed out so much more. Over time I became exceptionally talented with reading people, and that lead me to want to meet all different kinds. I’ve worked in customer service, hospitality, retail, sales and marketing, reception, telecommunications, food service industries, visual merchandising, entertainment, manual labour …sheesh you name it and I’ve probably done it. All of which were a part of my journey to find my niche, but in that time I met that most incredible people. Some I’m still friends with, and some I hold close to my heart as dear memories. At first I thought I was wasting my time, just bouncing around from place to place, but then I got to the point where I am right now. You see, all of those experiences have only made me a stronger writer, since I have physically done the things I write about I can legitimately say I have given my words actual life.
For the past few months, I have somehow been surviving through the unemployed life. At first it was amazing, I woke every day and did whatever I wanted to do. I had no boss to report to, no responsibilities to account for and I was operating on my own clock. I spent time with people that mattered, lived my life the way I had always wanted to and I did things so far out of my comfort zone that I’m still in disbelief. For the first time ever, I think I was actually living and it was absolutely the most beautiful thing I had ever done. Slowly though, I realized I needed to move forward, and unfortunately this wonderful world that we live in only operates on one thing; money and I didn’t have any of that. So I started to think about what I was going to do and what kind of work I wanted to get back into, but nothing appealed to me. I just didn’t care enough about anything to want to give up my freedom and it put me in a very depressing rut. I guess I had lived so freely that I broke out of that ‘work to pay bills and feed mouths’ mentality and now I just couldn’t find it in myself to go back. So I had to dig deep and for the first time I actually had to figure out what the hell I really wanted to do. I needed to find some motivation to get back out there, which is what brought me to write this right now.
The universe and I have a very different kind of relationship; I believe that I live through very unique experiences because I have been blessed with the gift to see things in a very meaningful light. With that knowledge, there are only a few things that scare me, and being stagnant is one of them. This is why I will ask the universe for change every so often. I have actually written about this before, but this time was very different from any transition that I can recall. In the past when I’ve claimed to be ready for my next chapter in life, I would call out to the universe to ask and almost instantly things would take an extremely rapid turn. Although these changes would bring me high levels of discomfort, I would always find a way to see the silver lining, so I would never doubt that things were going to be alright. However, this time in particular had me torn to shreds, I had never been that broken ever in my whole entire life. I was so low I literally considered taking my own life just to escape the misery of waking up every day to nothingness. I couldn’t bare the pain of how unhappy I was with myself, I didn’t know who I was at all and it was awful. I didn’t know what I loved, I didn’t know my own value and I didn’t know what direction to move in. I could barely trust myself enough to get out of bed and do the right thing every day, let alone think about how I was going to dig myself out of the hole I created. I felt hopeless, defeated and regardless of what anyone said to try to help me, I knew that this was my own internal battle and I was literally going to have to fight for my life to make it out alive.
There was something about getting to that point that caused something miraculous to happen though; I started to see small glimpses of the strength in me. It was like little flashes of this impeccable power flowing through my body, and considering how weak I had been feeling, these moments were so incredibly profound. Eventually I was finally able to pull myself out of my despair and look at what was happening from an outsider’s perspective. I came to terms with the fact that I can never decide on what I want to do because I’ve been subconsciously avoiding the one thing that matters the most to me; my writing. My discouragement from years ago had destroyed my confidence and although I had no regrets, it was time to face it. If I didn’t want to work some meaningless job for the rest of my life then I needed to fight for my passion and that fight started with understanding my weaknesses. I needed my confidence back; I needed to believe that I was incredible at my craft, regardless of anyone’s opinion or validation. I was so afraid to be shut down again that I wouldn’t even give myself a chance, but then I realized this is what any true artist or professional does every single day. Lately I’ve learned how to confront certain fears I’ve always had, like holding a tarantula for example, but confronting myself was the biggest and most important one thus far. I needed to accept the fact that I truly do have the power to be great without any doubts and without fears; I couldn’t let my ego hold me back anymore.
So to the person that is reading this right now, thank you for giving me a chance. I am happy you weren’t there ten years ago when I was trying to reach out and there was no hand open to receiving. If you had been there I wouldn’t have gone out into the world I tried to find another way, I wouldn’t have learned and experienced all the things that I have so far. I thank you for being right on time, because now I can say that I am ready to give you one hell of a story. That girl that I depict myself to be, you know the one who finds all the love and truth in this sick-sad world we live actually came from a pretty dark place too. I am finally ready to deliver that story to you, in hopes that I can make an impact so hard that it will grant me immortality through my words. I’m going to expose both the happiest and saddest moments of my life so that I can find a way to relate to as many people as possible. I was born to be an open book and I want nothing more than to move my readers in such a way that I am never forgotten. I know better than to believe that life is anything more than just the moment we are presently in, which is why each moment is a gift. I have been given an abundance of gifts in my twenty-four years of life, but why keep them all for me when I can give them away to someone amazing like you? When all is said and done, I pray can deliver my work in a way which also leaves you believing that my life is a miracle too. Until then I extend my deepest gratitude to you darling reader, as your time and attention just gave my dream life.
A Thousand Thank You’s.
Samira M.