Growing up, I felt like everything and everyone was against me. Like I’d been dealt all the useless cards in the game called life. My thoughts and feelings didn’t matter to a lot of people in the microcosmos of my childhood and teenage years. This could have broken my spirit unless I hadn’t found an escape: Books. I was lucky enough to have access to a wide range of them, and from very early on they became the building blocks of my very own universe. A universe in which I felt safe. A universe in which I could feel connected to and understood by people I hadn’t even met.
This is what the written word has always been to me (apart from mere entertainment): Feeling connected to other human beings. Do you know that extraordinary feeling when you’re reading a certain book, and it feels like it has been written for you and only you? Like the writer is in your head, reading your very thoughts? It doesn’t happen to me with a lot of books but when it does, it blows my mind. How is it possible to feel a connection with someone you haven’t even met? Easy. We are human, and in our feelings and thoughts, we aren’t all that different from each other. Of course we won’t feel and think the same as everyone on this planet, but there are people out there who feel exactly the way we do.
In the course of the last year, while pouring my heart out on this blog for everyone to see, the responses I got from friends and even people I didn’t know verified this belief in the most touching ways. There were people who told me that my posts have made them laugh. Some told me they have made them cry. Literally. Others have thanked me for putting into worlds what they had felt for a long time but never managed to express. Some people even told me that my writing keeps them going and helps them believe in their life goals.
I never anticipated such strong and positive reactions. I didn’t think my words would mean that much to anyone. To learn that in fact they do was one of the best things that ever happened to me. The other day, I read that ’To listen means to love’, so thank you everyone who listens to me, because it makes me feel connected and loved. Writing heals me, and the idea that by doing so I could help other people, too, makes me so happy. It’s still hard for me to put my worries and failures out into the open, and every time I press ’publish’ I keep thinking “Oh boy, what have I done?“ for the rest of the day, but you, who are reading this right now, have proven to me that it is something worth doing.
This is post number 40 on my blog and because of you, I will continue writing on here.
Thank you for being part of my little universe.