*Note – this post sort of goes hand in hand with my previous post about me rediscovering my passion for reading.*
It's funny how I could be so blind to something so obvious. It's almost like I didn't want to admit it to myself for some reason; afraid to be happy for doing something that I may have enjoyed without the approval of those around me.
Growing up, all I did was sit in my room and read and write. I loved it. I didn't want to do anything else. I wasn't into sports, and truthfully, I didn't really like being social. I think it drove my mother crazy. She was happy that I loved to do those things but she always pushed me to go out and be with friends. I tried to put myself out there but I didn't really relate to people my age. I wasn't interested in the things that teenagers like to do. Most of my adolescence I was picked on and would come home in tears almost every day. I came home and wrote about everything. I tried so hard to fit it but I just didn’t, so writing helped me sort out those crazy teenage years. I loved writing, not just to sort out my teenage years, it was fun to me. I had so many ideas in my head that I could write for hours. Looking back at my old report cards, it was the only subject I actually achieved a decent grade.
I loved reading. I loved writing. I kept numerous journals and wrote many stories – most of which I still have. I remember being perfectly content lying on my bed with a pencil in my hand and notebook folded back and just writing away the hours. Writing made me happy. It’s what I wanted to do. Somewhere between life and trying to be another face in the crowd, I forgot this. I forgot about me.
Recently, during one very slow, boring work day, I needed something to occupy my mind so I started to think more about what I want to do with my life. Customer service/Office work is something I’m good at, but it’s not something I want to make a career out of. I started to think about all the things I’ve done in the past and the things I like to do, to try to piece my life together. It hit me like a brick once my thoughts were compiled.
When I was taking graphic/web design in school my favorite part and the part that I was good at was coming up with the content for the advertisement or the website. I love scrapbooking, but the most enjoyable part for me is the journaling and recording the memory. Even at work when I’m leaving a phone message for someone, I write it, proof read it, and then rewrite it again, it’s kind of funny. Those are just a few examples but thinking about it now, I can’t believe how stupid I was for not seeing it sooner.