Am I a Writer?

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Am I a writer? This is THE question that has been circling my head for quite some time. What makes someone a writer? Who is responsible for labeling someone with such high esteem?  Finally, the answer came to me – I do. I realized that no one has the power to give you a label unless you allow it. No one has the power to tell you what you are and what you aren’t.

I am a writer. Even without officially publishing anything, or even sharing anything with the world. I am what I say I am. I have given myself the power and responsibility to identify myself with a label I deserve. Why do I deserve it? Because I am passionate about writing. I’ve been writing poetry, short stories, and novels that I’ve been too scared to publish because I was always asking the dreaded question: what if?  Today is the day I stop asking questions I’ll never be able to answer and do – what I believe I was born to do – write.

Today is the day I open myself up to criticism, compliments, and comments. Today is the day I start my blog.

 

Potential

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Sharp new yellow pencil. Limitless potential.

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Betrayal

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Our bedroom. Two voices. I knock. 

Strangers

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First love. Circumstances change. Worst strangers.

The Christmas Season

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I’ve always been called “The Grinch” and I accept it. The Christmas Season is not my favourite season, without going into extremes, I hate it. Something about this time of year makes me depressed and anxious. Above all else, its the expectation of this season that makes me so angry. The expectation to be happy. The expectation to buy presents. The expectation to participate. 

Everything about this season is fake and obligatory. Worse than that, I don’t consider myself to be religious. This means that all the religious undertones and connotations do not mean anything for me. 

This year, I am not doing shit. I’m not buying presents for anyone. I’m not suffering through dinners that remind me that I’m an outcast. I’m not doing anything because it does not resonate with me. More than that, I’m tired of doing things because I feel like I have too. 

This season should be about love, gratitude and giving. However, I never feel like its the case. If anything this season feels like the opposite… 

Opportunities

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Who would think that being humble could actually hinder you in your life? 

My manager has been talking to me about the next step in my career, and HONESTLY, I’ve been terrified to think about next steps. NOT because I’m not great at what I do cause honestly, I am. However, I find it very uncomfortable to talk about my accomplishments and achievements.

Also, I don’t like putting myself in a spotlight. To get unnecessary attention. It’s ironic when you think about it because I am very outgoing, but the moment the focus is shifted on me, I get nervous.

It’s even more ironic when you consider the fact that I want to speak publically for the rest of my life. Lecturing and Facilitating- that’s my shit.

In either case, who would have thought that being humble could hinder you in life? What I am finding is that every shy I shy away from my success because of seniority or age or lack of confidence or childish personality, I bring myself down. More importantly, lack of confidence is never sexy. 

Being Humbled and Being Confident. 

This is the balance I am now trying to find, but it’s so hard. With all of that being said, I only really have one goal – to not let my humbleness get in the way of the opportunities I have available to me. 

Losing Yourself

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The thing about losing yourself is that you don’t realize it until its too late. You don’t realize it until you look back and the “you” you knew is no longer there. You lose yourself, over time. Little pieces of you. 

Every time you say “yes” when you want to say “no.”

Every time you want to say something, but choose to remain silent.

Every time you dim yourself to let someone else shine.

Every time you make yourself feel small. 

Losing yourself never happens drastically. It’s never a quick occurrence. It’s slow moving like mist over a lake. It creeps up on you. It wallows and waits in the darkness until “you” is a thing of the past,  until there is nothing left to lose. Until the person “you” once knew is replaced by someone who looks like you, acts like you, behaves like you but is completely unrecognizable from the person “you” once knew.

That’s the thing about losing yourself, you don’t realize it until its too late. 

A Fleeting Moment

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I could feel him watching the side of my face like skin basking in sunlight, getting warmer and warmer. While he was trying to assess the situation, I was blushing like a school girl with a crush. I definitely made it easy for him because I was comfortable. I was comfortable.  A lot more comfortable than I thought I would be with a stranger. A lot more vulnerable than I thought the Scorpio in me would allow.

When he looked at me, I felt like he was looking into my soul. He said I was easy to read. A remark I never heard before. I found it quite interesting, but his reasoning is what got me. 

“You’re quite easy to read if you know where to look. Your eyes are quite revealing.” 

He was intentionally looking at me, so that he could see me. The unbelievable thing is one night together, and he did. He saw every uncertain thought that crossed my mind, any moment of discomfort or concern. He saw it all, without me having to say a word. He was so intuned with me and my energy that he could already tell when something was off. That’s when I knew – I was ready to surrender myself and go with what felt right instead of what seemed right.

I leaned into him, only a little. Just enough to let him know that he could, that I wanted him too. He looked at me before he met my lips, but when he kissed me it was slow at first, then very deliberate.  His hands moved to the back of my neck to pull me in and my body went flushed against his. I could feel myself moan into his lips ever so slightly. In that moment, that fleeting moment, I was his.

Maybe the word I used earlier was little unfair – a stranger – because he didn’t feel that way to me. He touched me and I felt myself melt into him, but only a little. It felt like I knew him before, definitely not in this lifetime, but I knew him, I knew that much. 

Now, here I am, sitting here writing about this moment. This beautiful moment that I was able to experience. This fleeting moment of bliss that I can’t get out of my mind.A moment that inspired and energized me. A moment that would never happen if I didn’t just let go and surrender. 

When I was with him, he asked”Why do you keep running from it?” It was a very good question. A question I am sure my subconscious knew the answer too, but I didn’t. So, I stopped running and I started feeling.