Blog: Why I Turned to Writing and Why I Keep at it
It takes sad days like today to remind me why I turned to writing in the first place. It wasn’t because I was astonishingly intelligent and had some grand ideas to share with the world. It wasn’t because I wanted to show off my literary skills. Instead, it was solely because I was often overwhelmed with the overflowing thoughts in my mind and emotions in my heart, and I needed a safe space to express them, or rather, to be relieved of them.
Writing, to me, was what the pensive was to Albus Dumbledore. A secret place to tuck away the overwhelming feelings and nonstop rants in my head, so they wouldn’t fall off in the wrong place and time, embarrassing me. Also, I didn’t want to lose my precious memories to the forgetfulness of my tomorrows and be bereft of them forever, so the pages of my diaries soon filled up with black ink blotches and scribbles of my thoughts. My journals became that old rustic road that led to the sea where I could revisit my memories and get soaked in nostalgia.
Having said that, locking away all your memories on a piece of paper comes with its demerits. Lies, betrayals, shame, guilt, manipulation, abuse, anger – these are not feelings anyone wants to remember many years down the lane. Neither do I. These are feelings we want to forget forever and need redemption from, like those well-written books with painful endings we don’t want to reopen or reread ever again and sad movies we don’t ever want to rewatch. Yet, was it wrong of those artists to create them and share them with us? Was it sadistic of them to make us cry with those words, lyrics, and songs? Do you think they should have never written them in the first place?
In my humble opinion, these stories needed to be written, forgotten, celebrated, appreciated, or discarded, just like any other piece of art in this world. I believe these stories of our greatest mistakes, pains, traumas, and failures might, in the long expanse of time, turn out to be a great service to mankind.
An unprivileged child might learn from your shared story what good touch and bad touch are, helping him to steer clear of abuse. Or a woman reading your tragic relationship with a narcissistic partner might finally accept emotional abuse as abuse too, recognize the toxic patterns in her own messy life and finally stand up for her rights. Or a young boy, hiding his sexuality from the world, might learn from your bold story of courage that love is love, and loving the same gender is not a crime like his country or culture makes him believe. Or a middle-aged man going through a financial and relationship crisis might relate to your hero’s vulnerability and finally stop putting up the “strong” act and take the therapeutic help he badly needs.
So, we keep stringing one word with another, day after day, sharing our sad stories along with our happy ones, not because we believe life is all sorrows and pain, or an equal mix of happiness and sorrow, but because to every sad end, there is a happy beginning that succeeds it. We believe people are great not because they haven’t had any setbacks, but because they persevered despite the dark days, heartbreaks, failures, losses, and pain. Because, as storytellers, readers, and writers, all of us know that the long nights do end, and there is always light at the end of the tunnels.
The great stories remind us that you are the main character in your story and it is still in progress; that heroes and villains both make mistakes, and the villain’s tragic flaw isn’t that he made mistakes but that he never learned from them and mended his ways. Even if you see yourself as an average Joe, maybe you have a #weaktostrong trope waiting for you. Even if you are an underdog, you are in luck because, in this story, an underdog rises from #ragstoriches. Even if you are an antihero now, there is a redemption curve that might make you a hero again. Even if you have failed and fallen into oblivion as a neglected side character or a foolish comedian just tolerated for occasional comic relief, maybe you are the biggest comeback story the world has yet to see.
Fellow loser, underdog, average Joe, misfit, victim, you are not alone in this journey. Here’s one who is rooting for your story, even as she writes hers. I know you are the black sheep of your family. Probably, that daughter who is still struggling with her career or that son who still struggles to pay his bills or find a partner. Your stories of struggle and perseverance matter, not just the glossy stories of weddings, promotions, and vacations on social media, so do my random scribbles about bleak days.
Keep writing, keep striving, and keep sharing those not-so-glossy and even sad and dark stories. Let’s keep it real, for a change.
