The more I am able to write and explain facts and feelings about this awful thing we are enveloped in, the more I feel free. It’s a release of love, sadness, confusion, anger, and silence. Once I get it out, I don’t go to sleep with it anymore. My mind becomes a little quieter and my heart gets more space as hate is replaced with love.
I have always been a writer, not professionally, but for myself. I’ve written tons of poetry, short non-fiction stories, essays, personal pieces, reports, observations… My mom said I had a pencil in my hand before I even knew how to write.
Although I do many creative things, I’ve always found that writing is my greatest form of expression. It enables me to get out all the things I would otherwise be holding inside. When I finish writing whatever it is I’m writing about, I feel amazingly free. My spirit feels lighter not having to carry the burden of unspoken hurts.
When I was ten I was published in Nevada Young Writers and Artists after having won a story contest. I wrote about a new math book that the school bully destroys on the first day. I did a book signing for copies to my friends and family and it remains one of my coolest memories.
I also changed an entire company with an anonymous letter regarding discrimination and unfair treatment of employees at a large company. Barely two weeks after receiving my complaint, the main bosses flew in from around the country, and that company was changed forever. Everyone was treated with respect and consideration instead of worth by rank.
Those are just two examples of many accomplishments made by sitting down and taking the time to express what was on my mind.
I have always thanked God for my gift of writing but now I realize that had He not given me this particular gift, I would never have been able to write this book to my niece. I wouldn’t know where to start or how to get my points across. So much needs to be told and it does take a reasonable amount of talent and determination to get it done.
I believe I was given the gift of writing particularly to be able to survive the agonizing grief of this situation. I’ve reached strangers on a personal level, I’ve found myself on a private level. I am able to reach out instead of withdrawing inward. I did my share of crawling under the covers, shutting my eyes tight, and wishing the racing thoughts would go away.
I had to write it out to be able to cope. I had to write so I wouldn’t feel so suffocated. I thank God that He has given me the strength and courage to pour out pain to make room for peace.
Writing makes me feel free. It brings comfort out of chaos. It helps me focus and brings a stillness my spirit needs.
Thank God for the written word, it makes me feel so free ….