How writing helps through my healing journey:

Writing is a beautiful way of being able to express oneself without being misunderstood. It has always been an integral part of my life and healing journey.

I started writing poems in 2nd grade. I loved reading books, what amazed me was how authors could convey their emotions and make readers feel through their words.

As a child, I was talkative. When I was 5 years old, my dad once made a bet with my mom: he would give her 100 USD (back in 1992) if she could get me to stop talking for 5 minutes. She lost the bet. However, as I grew older, I found myself becoming quieter and keeping my thoughts to myself. When I did express, I would immediately apologize for any inconvenience and withdraw back into my shell.

As timed passed, this tendency worsened. I struggled to defend myself when needed, stumbled with my words, feeling misunderstood along the way, I faced punishment after I eventually would “over-react”. After hours of crying and overanalyzing everything, I would take pen to paper, writing letters to my parents explaining what happened and slipping the letter under their door. Wait for them to read it, and whenever they decided to stop the silent treatment, we would have a discussion, and I eventually found myself apologizing for having “strong” emotions. 

Even when I fell in love and wanted to inform them he wanted to speak to them so we could get engaged, I could only do it through writing. Mind you, I was 24 at the time. But after marriage this tactic didn’t work anymore, so I started writing letters to myself, where it served as a way to process issues and release emotions. 

Unfortunately, I stopped writing for a number of years, my only emotional outlet was gone. Eventually I went through a divorce (a story for another time) and travelled multiple times, leading a busier lifestyle. Though I occasionally posted on social media here and there, but not enough to placate the emotions brewing within. 

Occasionally, the emotions would burst out, manifesting in explosive verbal outbursts towards friends and foes alike. When these became more common, I knew I had to take action for my own sake and that of others. 

So I started journalling, which is an amazing way of looking at your thoughts and experiences from a different perspective and re-evaluating situations. I noticed that when I stick to it, I tend to be less anxious, more calm and able to make sound decisions.

Journalling can clear your mind when you have a hundred thoughts running through your brain. When you think about it, it’s such an obvious and simple thing to do. Yes the effects can be slow but they are monumental. 

In order to discipline myself, I decided to post some of my writings. That’s when I noticed a few people telling me that they resonated with me and loved how they connected to my writings. This felt foreign to me- having others not only understand what I’m trying to say but also connect with it!! 

I became self-conscious about what I wrote and started to care what others thought of it. What was once my outlet became another source of anxiety. So I took a break from it all, which made all the benefits I had from writing dissipate. I felt my throat was clogged up, it became difficult to breath, and my stomach issues came back.

I have so much to say, much more to express and knowing the outlet is available made it excruciatingly painful to push it all back down again. So I had to sit with myself and ask: ‘who am I writing  for?  Is it for me? Is it for strangers to like me? Is it for others to feel seen? Is it for the hope of getting the approval I’ve always wished for from my own parents?’ I needed to be real with myself and call myself out.

I need to stay true to myself- how I write, how I express, how I emote- this is me. I can’t just change what I write about or how. I have come to far along this journey to go back to pleasing others. Holding myself back in my writing, will only hinder my own healing journey, and the people who felt seen deserve to know that they are not alone in how they feel. When these beautiful souls reach out to tell me how they felt, I feel seen and it makes my day. It reminds me in those moments that I am not alone in this vast universe.