Writers

A chalkboard. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have been writing for a month today, and have discovered that it is a wonderful way to release stress, to be able to voice through words, what I have felt and never been able to say. As time goes by, and I have retained more and more followers, it hit me today, that although there are many topics, titles, different lengths in our stories, we all are human and we all want the same thing. It doesn’t matter if you have been following me from the beginning, or you started following me yesterday, our words still express the same thing. A yearning to be accepted and loved. We come in to this world from dust. The first person our eyes meet are the ones who love us and will stick by our side for ever, right? Or wrong. Some of never make it to that home we were meant to go, for one reason or other. Some of us don’t make it to see the world as a child will see it. Some of us always have the same parents through out our lives, some have one, or maybe multiple parents. We learn in school we get rewards. A gold star, our name chalked on the black board. A monetary reward for good grades, maybe a restaurant of our choice for work well done. Elementary days are the greatest. Life is exciting, we make new friends, we discover new things our parents never taught us. Then there is a bridge you cross over. Called Middle school/high school. For some of us, that is a very difficult bridge to cross successfully. Classes become harder, more home work is put upon us. Puberty is in full swing. Our hearts begin to feel feelings we have never experienced and our bodies become unglued.  Friendships change, leaving us to ponder on what is wrong with us. What did we do or say wrong. Individuality starts to play a major role in our lives. Somewhere,somehow, no matter how many parents you had. or where you were lived, or how you were brought up, for a brief moment in time, or for some much longer, we yearn for what we once had. That gold star, that feeling of being loved. The need to feel accepted. Our worlds become shaken. Some folks turn to drugs, some to alcohol, some to shrinks, some to early death, and then there are us, the writers. We are able to take all that has happened in our lives. Our needs, desires, our wants, and we have been able to successfully put these in words. We have become loved, and needed by each other, and we get that gold star through acknowledgement of our postings. I am more proud of me today than I have ever been. Expressing myself and having a group of followers is all I needed to feel complete. Someone understands me. They have felt my pain, or happiness, or confusion. Thank you fellow writers, for being in my life. You may not know me personally, but you understand me, and accept me for who I have become today.