From The Heart...

So I've been doing a little soul searching lately, and thinking about who I am as a person. I've thought about how far I've come since I was a teenager, and how much further I want to go. I want my character to continue to grow, and I want my children to know that you can never stop growing as a person. You are always who you are, but you also always have the ability to change and be who you want to be. That's one of the reasons God gave us free will. Our options are limitless, and it is all up to us.

So I thought I would share a little bit about myself as a teen, which is not an easy feat for me. I am a very private person, but as I have said in previous posts, I want to be more open whenever possible. As a teenager, I was very depressed and I isolated myself a lot. It wasn't because I had a bad childhood or anything like that, because I didn't. I was taken care of and had anything that I needed. But my parents were busy people. My mom was always working or going to school, so she never really had time to spare. My dad also worked a lot, but tried to spend time with me whenever possible. But my parents weren't happy people, and I guess that kind of rubbed off on me. My mom spent her evenings in the living room, watching soap operas she recorded while she was at work. And my dad stayed in the bedroom, watching Nick At Night reruns. They never spent time together and we never really did things as a family. So in turn, I stayed in my room listening to music. And that's where I discovered an emotional outlet. I learned that writing was a way for me to get all of those emotions out without actually saying anything. I began keeping diaries and writing poetry along with short stories. I was a mad woman; any chance I got, I poured my heart and soul onto paper and hid them away.

Shortly thereafter, my dad moved out. It did not surprise me; I had seen it coming for years, even before they did. So fast forward a few years - I'm probably 15 or 16 by this point. I had a lot of resentment towards my father by then. I won't go into specifics, but a lot of things had hurt me and I never talked about them to anyone. My mom was engaged to man from England and he was staying in the States for awhile. By this point, I was sharing some of my poetry. My mom had read it, but never really said anything about it. She never really said anything about anything to be honest. But when he read some of it, I can remember him saying to my mom, "You know, Jen has a lot of pain and hurting inside of her." And my mom says, "No, Ivor. It's just fiction. It doesn't mean anything." But man, was she wrong.

All through high school, I had a lot of my writing published. My English teachers always told me to hold on to my passion and my talent. They said to use it and not waste it. But unfortunately, after high school was over, I did lose it. I hit a writing block and I just could not overcome it. Just recently, in the last couple of years, have I been able to even think about it again. I just assumed that maybe all of my hurt and pain was gone, and with it went my gift. But now I realize that it is not true. I associated my writing with my guilt and introverted ways, but it doesn't have to be that way. It is my passion and something that I love. And it's like an old friend, just waiting to be called upon and embraced once again. It's part of who I am and something that can continue to help me grow. It held my hand through all of the bad times, and it can do the same for the good times if I let it.

So yeah...I rambled about a lot of nothing. And I honestly don't think I even said what I came here to say :) But that's ok. Thanks for getting through the randomness of my post ;)

Here's a good quote for you:

"Because, sometimes, you have to step outside of the person you've been. And remember the person you were meant to be. The person you wanted to be. The person you are."