My whole life i’ve been writing about the joy and peace I believed and thought I lived. I then grew up to realise I wrote about things I never had, it was all lies, or perhaps things I aspired. In retrospect, I see a broken lassie who went through so much but still played with other kids like she was happy too. I avoided my troubles, but still thought about them, just not as deep as I do now.
When I became a teen I realised that not only fairytales should be written, reality matters too. Something happened and one night I just felt strong enough to write about the pain. It all started with a pen in my hand and the pain started flowing with every word – each one followed by tears.
I then realised how much pain I blocked inside while I thought I was happy. Suddenly all the ghosts from my past started chasing me and it got really bad, but a certain sense of closure came with every ghost. I then became obsessed with writing about the truth more than the lies, I became honest with my paper and that evolved to honesty on to myself.
Because of honesty – I know what I am going through and I am able to fight it. If you have cancer and visit a doctor who then gives you medication for TB, the cancer won’t go away. Instead, the medication will only trigger other side effects. Where am I going with this – you can’t heal the truth if you choose to embrace the lies.
Stop trying to act happy when you are not, yes the pretence will be an escape and you will survive the present, but think about the future. One day the truth will come back as a gigantic monster you won’t be able to face, you will then do things for survival, things you wouldn’t have done if you fought the monster when it was still a baby.
I am not here talking about someone else’s brokenness and making it my own. I am talking about myself and I didn’t know I was broken until I started writing about my life – my real life. Many writers write but are still broken. Writing heals but you will never be healed as long as you keep on lying to your paper. Be honest!!!
Sharon Mo ©