Writing is something that I hold very dear to me, however, this took me a while to figure out. I’ve struggled with finding out who I am, and for a big part of my life, I always felt like I was lost. Writing has played an immense role in the journey of figuring out who I am. Until recently I never knew what I wanted to do as a career, I had felt like most people knew what they wanted ever since they were a child. Therefore, I thought about my childhood and certain things that I would do that could help me choose a career. Then it hit me, in elementary school I had a journal where I would write stories for fun. I remember that I would love to write because I felt like I would go into a new world. Children have peculiar yet innocent minds, therefore, when I wrote random stories I would feel as if I were in the story.
Once I was in middle school, I did not care as much for writing. At this point, I considered writing “lame” or just a school activity. However, once eighth grade rolled around, my mental state changed. I was much older and I started dealing with stronger feelings than I ever had before. As a result, I made a bullet journal. This bullet journal was more for fun and aesthetic use. My bullet journal is filled with random yet carefully picked items ranging from photos to dried flowers. It also holds my feelings and days that I do not want to forget.
Starting high school was a bit tough for me, I went to a different school that almost no one from my middle school went to. I felt alone, so I decided to focus more on school. My favorite class soon became English because I started to love writing essays. I spent numerous amount of time working on it, and it paid off since I would get the highest grade in the whole class. As time passed, I made creative friends who inspired me daily. I used this inspiration in my bullet journal and in my everyday life. One of these friends actually gifted me a journal where I hold my sacred and deepest feelings. It was around this time where I started going through a tough time, but for some reason, I was never able to talk to anyone about it. It wasn’t that I had no one to talk, but rather, I did not know how to say my feelings to other people. I have trouble talking about personal subjects or strong emotions because I feel like I’m not saying everything I really want to say. Rather than holding all these emotions in, I overflow my pages with them. I turned these raw feelings into poetry or a story. Instead of simply writing “I’m sad because…” I would use figurative language and other useful writing techniques to transform my words and feelings into a beautiful masterpiece. After writing, I felt like the weight was lifted off my chest. All of this I would write in the journal that my friend gifted to me. However, before I would write it in the journal I would first figure out what exactly I was wanted to say in the notes on my phone, or I would just retain the information in my head. After that, I decided to assign my piece of writing a color that suited it. For example, if I was hoping for better times I would write it in green because to me green stands for hope. Personally, I feel like writing should fit with its font and color. Finally, I would transfer all of that into my journal. I hold this journal close to my heart for no one to see.
To this day, I still use both my bullet journal and my sacred emotion-filled journal. I never really paid attention to how much writing means to me until recently. I’ve discovered that I want to have a career that deals with writing, whether it’s journalism or something else I’m still not exactly sure. However, I know that through time I will figure it out because writing has helped me learn more about myself. When I write I just drain my emotions on the page and sometimes I discover emotions that I never knew I had. Writing has helped me get through the toughest of times and has also recorded my happiest of times. I like to go through old pieces of writing and see how much I have changed since then and how my feelings have evolved. There definitely are times that I share my writing to the world, however, I still hold many pieces of writing to just myself. It’s therapeutic to me and I’m not exactly sure what I would do without it.
Words that come to life 