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This Is My Voice

I never was quiet in my life.  I laugh loud.  I talk loud.  I dress loud.  A lot of what creates me is loudness.  But I have never really felt heard.  I always kept my opinions to myself in person.  I was always a people pleaser that never wanted to hurt anyone.

I may be talking or posting but I did not think anyone truly saw me or heard what I was saying.  I have kept a diary as long as I can remember.  I even have diaries from when I was four that I would write in.  I always have loved writing.  It was the only way I could really get my feelings out. If you know me I never really tend to show when I am sad or mad.  I tend to only show my smile.  I feel like a burden if I show my frown.

While I was in the hospital, I was not really sure how to get everything out.  I was sick of crying and I did not want to get mad.  I decided to write.  When I wrote, it was the first time I felt heard.  I may not even be sharing it with anyone, but I felt like I was finally doing something that is so close to my heart.  When I write, it is not to just do it.  It is not because I decided I am a good writer one day and wanted to share how good I am with everyone else.  I write because it is my soul.  It is me.  My words.

Writing has become me, I have become writing.  Poetry has become me, I have become poetry.  It is not what I do, it is who I am.  It is the only time I feel seen.  Heard.  My words become louder than my voice ever could.  Whenever I post a blog it is never me just deciding to post a random paper I wrote that day.  Anytime i feel anything, I write about it.  Today I have realized how my silence kills me. How writing is the way my voice reaches everyone.  I am entirely vulnerable when I write.  But when I share it with the world, my vulnerability turns into power and that is why I do it.  I share my soul and heart with the world.  It is not just words.  It is not just another blog.  It is me.  I open my heart with you.  I am standing naked in front of the world hoping that one day people will find their own power in the way I did.

I cannot hold anything in anymore.  I spill my whole being on these pages.  I never did this to get people’s attention.  I am sharing my diary.  And if people read this, it is another blessing and a reason I live.  I can scream all my words across a room and no one will pay attention.  But when I write it, people listen.

When I write I cry.  I smile.  I feel everything.  Open you ears, I am here.

Not everyone needs to write.  Everyone is different.  Do not think because writing helps me, that it will cure whatever you feel.  Do what you feel passionate about.  Draw, dance, sing, run.  Go study for a test.  Do something that makes you utterly yourself, feel heard.  The world is waiting for your voice.





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