Once upon a time, I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to share ideas about how to live a happy life so that it would inspire happier people to live around me.

I wished that I had never been bullied or that I at least had courage back then. All I had was the understanding of why I was being bullied but that was no shield to protect me.

I wished I could find my path and be clear on how long it was. I longed for a teacher or at least a torch to make clear to me where I was stepping. I walked slowly and full of caution.

I wished I had been brave to walk away from things that didn't allow me to explore and be myself. I wish I was less afraid of being alone and more afraid of not growing.

I had wished I could have been more aware and a better daughter to my mother. I wished for her troubles and pains to go away, and one day, they did.

I wished for a break. I wished for strength and anger to find me so I could at least fight my barriers, even if not peacefully.

And I fought and sometimes, broke a little.

And I healed and fought a little more.

This went on for a few years until I got tired of fighting.

Scarred and angry, I resigned from life and started fresh. I walked away and became lucky.

All of a sudden I realised that I did in fact have courage. I became less cautious and afraid of not growing. I was afraid to lose myself in someone else's plan.

One day, whilst the world was in a strange place, I started to live my first dream of writing in a public space and signed everything with my name. I began to help people unintentionally. I wrote only to fill a gap in my heart, but others understood my lack and supported me.

I kept on writing.

Today I write and I am closer to myself.

It's almost like I sit beside myself as I find the words.

It's like a dream.
© #growthfromtheinsideout