When You Live in Fear, Writing Isn’t Easy.

Growing up I was afraid of doing things wrong. This came from being told I had to act a certain way, had to keep my chin up, and that I couldn’t, ever act up.

Do you know what it’s like to grow up and believe you can’t do anything right?

I also believed if I did any of the things I mentioned above the wrath of god would be unleashed and I would never be able to do anything fun again.

Because of this, I lived in fear anything I did could jeopardize my life.

This became one of the hallmarks of my childhood.

When I was 14, and began writing, I kept my stories from him for I knew they’d be ejected from his vision without cause or purpose simply because they weren’t something useful, or that they wouldn’t help me when I got older.

I left his domain, moved away, but those fears of being accepted by him were still there.

These things caused me to stop writing until my last year of high school.

I found in high school, people like me. Those who wrote because they liked writing. I no longer had to keep things hidden about my writing and discovered that I was starting to get decent.

After high school I didn’t write as much, but I still wrote, which saved me a few times.

Once I left the god’s domain, I learned, though not quickly, god wasn’t as powerful as he thought he was and that my life was under my control, not his.

This changed when I entered back into his good graces. I started writing again, but kept every journal stashed away for fear he wouldn’t understand my writing or that it would be judged as something it wasn’t.

Once I finally left god’s domain, without any reason to turn back, I leaped free of his domain and set out on my own.

Soon I discovered there were things beyond his realm. Things I discovered which changed the way I viewed him and because of finding love, I found out that he was no longer of use to me.

About the same time I found love, I discovered the ability to write again.

Though, because of the hallmarks of my childhood, I was still afraid of his wrath or that I would disappoint him in some way. Because of this I didn’t write the things I wanted to.

I was too afraid of being smote by his wrath.

He was at a distance during that time and though I’ve let myself write again, it wasn’t until the last few months when I decided, “I’ve been without him as constant in my life and I’ve become a better person for it, why would I want him in my life, when I’ve just become comfortable in my own skin?”

Because of this revelation, I have turned in my halo and started my march in to hell.

My march has led me to find things about myself, and my writing, I never knew existed.

I thought his approval was required for everything, it isn’t. I now know that my life is my own and I’m in control for one.

I no longer care, nor do I require his approval for my writing or otherwise.

I’m finally in control and it’s time to write without fear.



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