Saturday, October 13, 2012

Writing, Compliments, and Jesus

I've always been a writer. Songs. Poems. Stories. Plays even. In my high school, senior year you choose two half year electives to make up your last English credit. One had to be reading based and one writing based. My choices were made freshman year. Shakespeare and Creative Writing. I think creative writing was one of my favorite courses that I enjoyed mainly for the material. Other courses I may have enjoyed the material (like German) but I stuck with it/didn't dread it for the teacher. And in college I took fiction. Short stories. I adored it. But on my own I never finish a story. I love writing but my subject of choice tends to be my life.

I've been journaling since I was about 8 years old. In my Spice Girls diary. With a lock. As I've grown older, my secrets have grown more and more personal, more intense, more intimate. More likely to get me locked up to be honest. My journals have grown with me but somewhere along the way, I dropped the lock.

My handwritten journals went from needing a key to being picked up from the dollar store. Still pretty but cheap. Then I picked up a spiral notebook. I dropped the pretty. In part because I could write in class and my teachers didn't know the difference. They thought I was very studious, taking notes. I also started blogging around this time. I don't know what started me on that path but in JLand I found some amazing friends.

I was transparent with them when I couldn't be with the people I saw every day. That added layer of privacy built in with spilling my guts out to a page lets me be more vulnerable. I traded the privacy of a lock for the guard of not seeing my audience face-to-face. I've still never met those people (though when I make it down to the south, I do hope that I can swing in on one of the women I've stayed in touch with for an afternoon). The fact is I was able to spill my guts out in my blog and get the support that I needed. I turned to Madman, Bernadette, Sara, and others because I couldn't turn to Jack, Sayiiiiiiid, and Russo. I loved those girls but it's hard enough to talk about your emotional chaos when you're 14 but to bring it up over tater tots? When those 40 minutes are our one break for the day to goof off and play pringle hockey or "Make Sawyer spit out her drink"? I couldn't do that to them and make lunch a pity party.

This journal that I'm currently writing in is probably my third serious one. (AOL, LJ, and here along with dozens of others scattered that I never got into regularly)

Now this might seem like a tangent but I promise you it'll come back together in a moment.

Compliments. We all know they make our day just a little bit better and we love getting them. But I don't remember the "Oh what a cute shirt!" or the "Love the new haircut". Those boost my self-esteem for a moment, maybe a day or two, but there are a few that have stuck with me over the years.

1.) "You look like you could be a painting. The way you're looking out the window, that almost sad look in your eye." -Russo, freshman year
2.) "You look like a rock star in those purple sunglasses." -Bailey, freshman or sophomore year outside PHots
3.) In response to a text saying that I was a published author, "I just have to say that is so damn sexy." -Ron, senior year
4.) Okay so there are a few about my body that I do remember but those are private. As are who said them.
5.) You are a great writer, Victoria. Have you ever considered writing a book? Loved your post!" -Becky last month

And that, my dears, is where the strands of this post combine and where they add another: Jesus. This month is about having tea with Jesus after all. (Speaking of which this girl is a bit chilly. Going to grab a cup of delicious cherry marzipan tea before I continue.) Now that I'm warm...

Lately, at least three people have told me that I'd make a great writer, that maybe I should pursue it. Given that this is one of those few things I've kept consistent with in my life, I'm guessing it's going to continue being a part of my life for the next 20 years or more. (Yet, the thought of a vlog sends me running for the hills.) I said in my "I believe" post that I believe G-d will reveal His calling in my life in His time. I'm not saying that I know yet what my life looks like. But writing is a part of it. And if I reach even one person through my writings, then that's one person I've reached.


Post a Comment