Writing was the earliest form of storytelling I remember doing. I would actually write stories to then play them out with my action figures. I was 25 when I first started…just kidding, I was 9.
Writing comes naturally not easily. It’s therapy. I can get something off my chest or out of my mind. Or it can just be something I think is entertaining. When write a more meaningful piece, I’m writing it for myself and people like me going through something similar. Storytelling, on both sides, can be a safe place to explore or confront your feelings.
I know there are others that have it worse than me, but I only have my experience to draw from. Honestly I wish writing about adversity wasn’t my thing. My mom used to write feel good love stories, but then again we all have different stories to tell.
Right now I’m an unhappy person. I carry that unhappiness with me with a little bit of guilt. I feel guilty because there are things I’m also grateful for. But when I’m being honest with myself, I know I’m not living the life I want. I’m still trying to figure things out. Storytelling is the only thing in my life I haven’t given up on. Whether it’s through writing, photography, improv, filmmaking, or whatever, I’ve always found a way make my voice heard. It’s a mechanism to combat loneliness and it’s proven to be effective. My hope is that when someone reads a story of mine, that it will resinates on some level for them. If not to make someone feel better, it’s to say you’re not alone.