For me, for my children, for advocacy

Why do you blog?

I have always had a deep need to express myself and my emotions. I hold big big emotions, indescribably intense and passionate outpourings from my soul exude themselves, in often, self destructive ways when I keep them caged too long. As a child I had a wild imagination and penchant for adventure, danger didn’t scare me, the bigger the challenge the better. The thrill and the rush were addictive.

I adored performing, spent hours upon hours of choreographing, directing, starring in and generally bossing my little sister around tirelessly. She loved it really, well I’m sure there are some fond memories of all the great times we treasured together. Not without navigating the challenges of my great need for justice and her much better ability to be crafty than me, we often fought to the death too. We still have a tendency to butt heads now and then, but the fierce bond we share entangles as deep as my veins. She is forever the ground beneath my feet, my lighthouse in the dark, without her I am alone.  Please do not misconstrue those last three words in any way to think that I am undermining anyone else’s relationship with me in any way. It simply refers to the special key she holds in understanding me more than anyone else I know.

I digressed slightly, but I guess it highlights my need to express myself. I was a very sociable child, loud, outgoing, a show off at times admittedly. I had lots of friends, I was popular, people fought to sit next to me at lunch. I never understood why at the time, but I guess it was my zest for life, my passion, my outgoingness, imagination and wanting for everyone to be happy. I  struggled in many ways too, I hated divisions across friends and having to try and share my time equally between girls that were fierce rivals because of my love for all of them and adamancy to not pick a side. At times it frustrated me so much and I wanted to scream at everyone how insane it all was. I never did.

I understood very very early on how different I was to my peers, who I adored so much. I would beg my mum to tell me why I was different, what was wrong with me. Why did no one feel the feelings that I felt? Why could no one see what was clearly wrong with the world? Why couldn’t everyone just love each other as much as I loved and cared for other people? Why were other people not angry at clear injustices and settling for acceptance? This world and the people around me didn’t make sense. God didn’t make sense. In a world that doesn’t make sense, who do you turn to? Who do you go to to make it make sense? I talked to God constantly, not prayer but full on conversation in my head with a God I knew that was not represented fairly by any scripture.

When I had nothing left to turn to when God did not answer, I needed to find other ways to pour out my soul. I was fortunate to have a penchant for creativity, I absorbed literature like a sponge, resulting in a very imaginative and highly literate way of thinking. When I put pen to paper, the words just come tumbling out, like blood letting from an open wound. I discovered my release. I found the world I belonged in. This was my stratosphere. Thus begun my long torturous journey with writing, many crescent highs, unfathomable lows and years of aridness or abandonment. It began with a personal diary, but once that was discovered and my deepest depths lay exposed unashamedly in all their glory. I could have cut off my own arm to never give a pen such power ever again. I retreated, for years and years, never truly expressing myself. I cannot blame this for a decline in my mental health, however I know now, the ability to be able to utilise this medium is imperative for my continued growth.

*Why do I blog?*

This.

For me.

In doing this for me, I can unleash all of my innate intense emotion creatively, purposefully and controlled. So that the rest of the time I can focus my energy and equal passion for being a Mother and partner for my family. My daughter, much like me is very literate and emotionally charged like me. I want to help her find her niche in expressing herself too, a keen writer and diarist like me, I suspect writing may be her selfsame solace.

For advocacy. If you had not already noticed, I am very passionate about standing vocal for change across many spheres. Change in perceptions, change in actions, change for progress, equality and demand for respect for diversity, are very high on my agenda. I have been ashamed of many things in my life, my words, my actions, even my thoughts at times. Advocacy for hope is something I will never be ashamed of, no matter how wrong or naive anyone tries to tell me I am. Above all the despair, frustration, disrespect, hurt and shame, amongst the many things I have experienced from humanity. I have thrived and danced in the good, the pure, the innocent, the creative, the loving and connection of humanity. There I choose to set myself. There I hope to remain and create for my children and my children’s children.

Let them be my story. They are not but my creation, but my inspiration, my drive, my passion, my reason for being.

I blog because I love so much, so so deeply, I cannot contain it to myself. I seek to share it from within every fibre of my entire being. I just hope I can connect with just a few at least to be a fair advocate.