Writing is a beautiful outlet to help me forget pain.
I am writing this post as my entry into the Positive Writer’s Writing Contest: How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life. – Learn more at: http://positivewriter.com/writing-contest-how-writing-has-positively-influenced-my-life/#sthash.c92pRHgh.dpuf
I sat on the bleachers, not dressed out for my sixth grade P.E. class. Shyness enveloped me on most days. I suffered
I felt humiliated and unloved often as a child. Writing changed me. (Picture from Graphic Stock.)
the life of a tween gypsy because my parents moved my siblings and me every 14 to 16 months. I attended seven schools by the time I entered sixth grade. Friendships were hard to make because I didn’t know how to relate to others.
My hair hung over my notebook as I scribbled a story with my pencil. One of the my fellow sixth graders noticed me. “What are you doing?” she came over and plopped down.
I didn’t look up and shrugged, “Writing a story.” “What about?” she asked. “A girl who became handicapped and was attending a special ranch program.”
“Can I read it?” Her name escapes me now, but I remember her green eyes and black hair.
She seemed so sincere, but still I doubted her. Maybe she just wanted to make fun of me more, I thought to myself. I struggled with old fear feelings for a few minutes, but wordlessly I handed her my notebook. She took off with it.
My heart plummeted as she called out to her friends. “Mary, thinks she is a writer,” she yelled out. The other girls gathered around, and I knew they were about to start attacking me again, calling me even worse names. They made fun of my hair when I accidentally blurted out that I used dish detergent for shampoo because my parents could not afford to buy us shampoo too. “Dish-head, you hair is so greasy.” They harassed me because I rotated the same outfits every three days. My wardrobe consisted of one skirt, two pair of jeans, and four to five shirts. They seemed to notice everything about me from my crooked glasses with its taped frame to my scuffed up tennis shoes that I wore everyday even with my skirt. “Didn’t you just wear that skirt yesterday? What’s wrong? You’re clothes are so ugly.” “Her face is gross.” The ugliness seemed to always echo in my head.
I looked up as the girls gathered around reading my story. Silence was all I heard. Then one of the girls came back and handed me my notebook. “What is going to happen next?” she asked me.
“I … I don’t know yet,” I said. “I just write as it comes in my head.”
“Wow, you are pretty good.” another girl came over. “I love how you described the horses and how Maria had to lift herself out of the wheelchair to pull herself up on her horse, Shadow.”
“Yea, it is a neat story.” yet another girl came over. “Can you let us read more when tomorrow?”
“Sure.” I said and looking down at the ground.
“You are a good writer.” another girl said.
For the rest of the month, I made sure I penciled a new scene everyday about Maria’s struggle to fit in and adjust to her life in a wheelchair. She learned independence on the ranch and how to care for her own pony. She even survived getting caught out in the open during a thunderstorm and the horse had reared up in fear of lightening. Maria calmed her horse and rode back to safety with the lightening and the thunder booming all around them. Maria also won the jumping contest and became stronger and more self reliant. My life seemed to mirror my fictional story.
With each new scene, the teasing seemed to lessen. I found beauty in my writing because I felt more at ease and accepted because the girls were more friendly, even inviting me to a sleepover. I don’t remember much else about that story. Unfortunately, we moved again from Fort Lauderdale to North Ridgeville, Ohio before I finished sixth grade. I lost that notebook in the move somehow.
Writing, however, became my escape from peer pressure and teasing. I kept a journal wherever we moved. I wrote short stories and poetry regularly. When I entered 10th grade at Coconut Creek High School back in Florida once again, I joined the newspaper staff. I determined in my heart that writing was my passion. After college, I became a journalist, winning first place Associated Press awards for articles and photography.
I have dreamed of writing a novel and started but never finished one. I have drafts of several in notebooks that I keep to this day. Maybe one day I can actually finish one and even publish it. Now, however, I write just for the love of the beautiful craft of writing, not worrying too much about publishing. Writing has morphed into a spiritual exercise. I write to praise. I write to lift up my voice. I write to draw closer to the Lord. I write to point others to Him.
Writing transforms my days, turning pain into hope, metamorphosing anguish and worry to faith and love. It creates a haven for my mind and soul when I am suffering from GERD or arthritis with its joint aches and pain in my feet and hands. I talk into my microphone and dictate words as they fly across the screen. Writing is an outlet to make me forget pain from arthritis and fibromyalgia. Writing is holy, personal, and my worship. Writing is everything, and I lift it up to Jesus because He gifted me with the ability to write.
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Where the prompts this week are beautiful or ban.
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Hey Mary I read your piece and let me tell you, I was there. The connection is massive, and with each word, each thought and experience, I related from one to another… When I think back to the worst time, I have to believe the children were unaware that their cruelty left me devastated. I was in a no win situation, overwhelmed and abused at home, and then distraught at school… The beauty for me was that as a child I was saved by a child centred organisation, and yet, despite feeling alone and tormented, I blossomed and grew as I handled all the troubles in my world. It’s been a journey Mary but the hard work has paid off because once we just are, and then we grow, we’re in control and able to plan, be who we really are. Like you I found writing; it saved my heart and allowed me to have someone to talk to. I am glad you found it too.
Good Luck in the competition. I entered; it was wonderful to disclose my heartfelt words to share with others who might feel for whatever reason that they can’t share.
Kindest regards
Jane Ewen.
Jane recently posted…The Loft… In My Mind.
Oh, Mary, as I started reading this I was wondering if it was true or not. I’m so glad you found beauty in writing and writing was your acceptance in a world that wasn’t very friendly. I, too, someday want to write a novel. I have a few starts, but no big picture. This story, your story, resonates deeply of fear, trust, compassion and validation. Thank you for sharing it.
Hi Mary, stopping over from one of the link ups. From the time I was too young to understand why, art had always fascinated me. In all its forms, art has a profound way of transcending barriers and connecting our hearts in ways other things can’t. There’s such power in story–whether that’s through photographs, dance, music, writing. It’s so beautiful to see the different ways it impacts us. Thanks for sharing how writing has touched your life. 🙂
Crystal Walton recently posted…Woo! Hoo! Guess What I Get to Do?
As kids we would listen to a radio show called “I love a Mystery.” I would like to change that to I love a Story, for that is what happened to those girls and their desire to know “What is Next?” This was an excellent lesson to us all when we think our stories don’t matter. Yes, they do. Thank you for sharing with us here at Tell me a True Story.
Hazel Moon recently posted…Hidden Secrets
I love this! So much! What a wonderful testimony of how writing connects. And this? “Writing transforms my days, turning pain into hope, metamorphosing anguish and worry to faith and love.” YES! I get that, so much. Thanks for linking up at #ThreeWordWednesday.
Kristin Hill Taylor recently posted…Three Word Wednesday :: Consider It Joy
What an encouraging testimony. How brave of you to share your story…then and now.
Patricia recently posted…What is beautiful…
This is such a beautiful testimony. I remember being bullied in the sixth grade too. It’s such a rough time. I’ve recently rediscovered my passion for writing, and your testimony is such an encouragement. Blessings from #tellhisstory.
Samantha recently posted…Everyday Grace: Infusing All of Your Relationships with the Love of Jesus {Book Review}
Your writing is beautiful. I was with that girl that was bullied in school and found comfort in writing, how she gained self esteem and confidence.
When I was way younger I used to write a lot. Since I moved to the US my writing has become less and less which is mainly because of the language. I seem to be unabel to write anything good in my native language, but English is not the language I really feel home in. I’m currently trying to get over these barriers.
Writing is a gift, both to the writer and the reader. Thank you for sharing your gift of words with us.
Blessings,
Catherine Ann
Catherine recently posted…When Loving is Hard
Thanks for sharing ! Awesome testimony.
What a glorious testimony. Write on! a visiting neighbor from Ra-Ra!
Susan Shipe recently posted…cheerleaders
It must have been very difficult to share the writing with the girls that had teased before. When we first write we are wary who reads it in case we are laughed at or get criticized. How important it is to realize that both others and yourself all have special gifts even if you don’t always understand their point of view.
Old Egg recently posted…Cappuccino
Oh Mary! This is intensely personal and beautiful, a window into the soul of the lovely woman you’ve grown up to be! ” Writing is holy, personal, and my worship.” Most certainly your writing is all of that, this post today brought that message home. Thank you for sharing your story with us, and thank God for helping you to find your way by blessing you with a talent for crafting words. XOXO
Josie Two Shoes recently posted…Banned
I love everything about your post…especially the last line. Me, too! In writing, I praise Him and even hear from Him. Everything makes sense when I write. We are kindred! If you get a chance, visit me. I wrote about writing!!!
Saleslady371 recently posted…In My Father’s Eyes
First off – I think this is a fabulous idea for a writing contest and good luck!
Next – I could almost feel what it must have been like to be you at that age in that moment – so I think you wrote it very well. Writing can certainly be a great escape and a way to get outside of the noise and difficulties of daily life. I’m glad it gave you something so positive and continual given how often you moved as a child.
Louise recently posted…Music for my (E)x’s