When I was a child, I did not dream of being a writer. My dad would tell me how much I wanted to be an action star, then a nun, then a teacher, a TV actress and back to being a teacher. He would always laugh at my boyish nature and taught me how to play basketball, for he wanted to have a son and got a daughter.
As I grew up, I realized that my father was not the man I thought he was. He was using drugs, having mistresses, using up all of my mom’s savings and worst of all, he hurt my mother. I was a child, and I didn't know what to do except to go to school so that the pain can go away. I studied and studied and secluded myself from outsiders. My friends can be counted in my 5 fingers. I did not know hot play active games. I read books fit for people 5 years older than me. I wallowed in the pain by reading and reading until my eyes got hurt.
Because, I read a lot, I have learned to write when I was 12 years old. It was my teacher who told me I had a potential and talked to me about my life. Her name was Grace. She knew what I was going through and she encouraged me to write my feelings always, so I could have an escape.
Ten long years after that, I am still writing. But now, I am more open to conversation, to love, to care, to admit I am wrong, to grow up, to have children of my own. I forgave my parents for being what they were, because had they not been them, I would not have been me.
I do envy people who have everything sometimes, but the truth is I think they have less lessons learned because they have made not so many mistakes. When I write, I think of all the people who can read my story, and they will say “Well, that girl inspired me to be better even if my parents had broken up” or “She showed me that problems can be overcome once we believe in ourselves”.
I still cry sometimes thinking that life is not fair. I dream of growing up with a sane mother and a responsible father – but I did not, and I am still standing strong, did not take drugs, did not stop school, did not burn buildings, do not drink, do not smoke and do not practice hatred. I am who I choose to be and not because my parents are not okay, and not because they were not in my life.
People make reasons for their actions blaming their parents, their neighbors, their teachers – when they should be blaming no one but themselves. If we can make things work for the better, we have to. We shouldn't let the problem drown us; it should help us know how to swim.
I fought back when the pain was too strong by writing it and sharing it with my friends. It was the best feeling. I fought back when my mother shows me her bald head and when she talks to the air, I wrote it too. I do not do it for pity. I do it because someone, out there pretends they are okay when they are not. It doesn't help to live in a shell all your life.
Be strong, but do not forget to always be you. Write your dreams, and make them come true – each and every one of them.
Author : Maria Jevska Nicolau is a 23-year old trainer on sales excellence who has a long love history with writing and won many journalism awards at college and region. She has a one year old daughter and a baby boy on the way. She likes Harry Potter and it is her ambition to write a book.
For more from author When young women become young mom and more here.
As I grew up, I realized that my father was not the man I thought he was. He was using drugs, having mistresses, using up all of my mom’s savings and worst of all, he hurt my mother. I was a child, and I didn't know what to do except to go to school so that the pain can go away. I studied and studied and secluded myself from outsiders. My friends can be counted in my 5 fingers. I did not know hot play active games. I read books fit for people 5 years older than me. I wallowed in the pain by reading and reading until my eyes got hurt.
Because, I read a lot, I have learned to write when I was 12 years old. It was my teacher who told me I had a potential and talked to me about my life. Her name was Grace. She knew what I was going through and she encouraged me to write my feelings always, so I could have an escape.
Ten long years after that, I am still writing. But now, I am more open to conversation, to love, to care, to admit I am wrong, to grow up, to have children of my own. I forgave my parents for being what they were, because had they not been them, I would not have been me.
I do envy people who have everything sometimes, but the truth is I think they have less lessons learned because they have made not so many mistakes. When I write, I think of all the people who can read my story, and they will say “Well, that girl inspired me to be better even if my parents had broken up” or “She showed me that problems can be overcome once we believe in ourselves”.
I still cry sometimes thinking that life is not fair. I dream of growing up with a sane mother and a responsible father – but I did not, and I am still standing strong, did not take drugs, did not stop school, did not burn buildings, do not drink, do not smoke and do not practice hatred. I am who I choose to be and not because my parents are not okay, and not because they were not in my life.
People make reasons for their actions blaming their parents, their neighbors, their teachers – when they should be blaming no one but themselves. If we can make things work for the better, we have to. We shouldn't let the problem drown us; it should help us know how to swim.
I fought back when the pain was too strong by writing it and sharing it with my friends. It was the best feeling. I fought back when my mother shows me her bald head and when she talks to the air, I wrote it too. I do not do it for pity. I do it because someone, out there pretends they are okay when they are not. It doesn't help to live in a shell all your life.
Be strong, but do not forget to always be you. Write your dreams, and make them come true – each and every one of them.
Author : Maria Jevska Nicolau is a 23-year old trainer on sales excellence who has a long love history with writing and won many journalism awards at college and region. She has a one year old daughter and a baby boy on the way. She likes Harry Potter and it is her ambition to write a book.
For more from author When young women become young mom and more here.
