Quite the Day…

Okay, so I know I said I wouldn’t post anything this week, but I lied (obviously). 

SOOOO, today was quite the day (as the title of this post implies) and in my Creative Writing class, things didn’t go as I expected at all. That is, I wasn’t expecting to break down and cry after my classmates read my workshop submission. I tend to go by the old saying, “Write what you know” and I am a fiction writer, but my personal life always has so many twists and turns, it’s hard  NOT to include elements of it in my fiction pieces. While others in my class wrote about a stray dog that gets saved and a really sketchy Greyhound bus ride, I wrote about my own experience witnessing domestic violence. 
I chose to write about a particular incident (which I won’t detail on here, but it IS in my book), because I have had writer’s block for the longest time and have had trouble finishing the edits for my memoir, The Girl on the Red Scooter. I’m not talking the writer’s block where you can’t figure out what to write. I’m talking the type of WB where you don’t want to face something that has happened to you or that you’ve witnessed, so you push it away into a far away place in your brain and you lock it up so tight to make sure it never resurfaces ever again. This was me when it came to the whole domestic violence issue. It’s been about eight years since the incident, but the images will forever be engrained in my brain no matter how many times I try to erase them. 
When I began to write said piece, I was completely fine. I undid the “lock” and released that memory and I recounted every detail, making sure that I changed certain words and situations so I could still have that element of fiction whilst allowing myself to express emotions. All was well. Then, I got into class and had to talk about it. It was as if someone had flipped a switch and I went from completely fine to emotional wreck in about two seconds. I was finally understanding what it means to let your feelings out when you write and I was finally letting myself feel that sadness. For the longest time, I’ve kept them hidden away and while I wish I would’ve picked a better (less packed) setting to realize this, I am glad I did. My teacher (as well as my peers) thought it was a very well-written piece that only needed a few minor changes. I felt strong and empowered, like nothing and no one could stop me.
Today taught me so much about myself and my abilities as a writer and that no matter what situation I go through, I will always come out of it stronger than when I went in.
Special thank you’s, love, and hugs to McKenna and Kendra for putting a smile on my face after I had my “moment.” Love you both! 
Now, if you will excuse me, I must go prepare for my last midterm of the week! Thank you to all of YOU for your support and for reading this novel of a post. 

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