Once Upon a Time

January 14, 2012
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I have had no tragic happenings in my life to tell. I’ve had no huge epiphanies on life. I didn’t change the world. I didn’t find the cure to cancer. All I have is a story, my story. I was always average. I was always boring. I have always been simple… normal. There was nothing notable or special about me. I had no unique talents; no hobbies that made me stand out from the rest.

I tried everything. I wanted to find something that I was good at. I tried singing, acting, playing the drums, I tried drawing, tried every sport known to man; it was no use. I was clumsy, flat and off beat. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t think of anything that made me stand out from the rest. I would be plain, boring Kelsey for the rest of my life.

Finally one day in middle school I realized how tired I was of settling for average, normal and bland. I was ready to just give up, throw in the towel, and be done with it all. I wanted to escape. I wanted to feel in control and do the things that were only possible inside my head. At last when I was fed up with it all, I picked up my pencil and began to write. I made my own worlds, my own characters with their own flaws and problems. I could do anything I wanted with a flick of the wrist. I could make these people I wrote about be good at drawing or singing. I could make these imaginary characters of mine be beautiful and special and everything that I wasn’t. Now I had the power and the imagination to make myself be anything.

So I began writing, it was my escape. I began writing poems, short stories and even full length books. I wrote anything my imagination could come up with. And then finally, I had an epiphany. Not a huge one, but a turning point none-the-less. I had found something that I was good at, writing! Writing was my hobby, my passion, my talent. I finally felt good about myself for the first time in my life. After my huge “epiphany” I was always smiling, like I knew a secret that no one else knew. A lock only I had the key to.

I started seeing myself in a new light after that. I saw myself as great, extraordinary, special and most importantly, amazing. I could do something that some could only dream about. Writing became my zeal. Writing made me feel in control. When I wrote, I felt beautiful. I felt stronger and self-assured. I truly felt amazing.

I am amazing, and no one can tell me otherwise anymore. I used to give in to bullies and people who put me down. However, now I just get my pen and paper out and just write. I write my feelings. I write my hopes and dreams. I write until everything seems right in the world again. I could create problems and people with different outcomes and issues; different backgrounds from far off places that I could only dream of. I have the power and the imagination to do anything.

My writing made me realize how great I truly am. My writing changed the way I view myself. Now I know that I am amazing. Though I didn’t save the world, find the cure to cancer or do anything hero worthy. I really didn’t do anything truly extraordinary at all. I did find myself though. I have the self confidence to save the world, or cure cancer, or at the lease write about it. I now know what I want to do for the rest of my life. And I wouldn’t have felt so strongly about my writing if I hadn’t tried all of those other activities I failed so miserably at all those years ago. Finding my talent, finding my passion, finding myself makes me amazing. And that’s pretty huge in my book.





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titsmcgee said...
Feb. 1, 2012 at 9:27 am
I view myself as a monkey at a Led Zeppelin concert.
 
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