I Want to Share My Story with You
A little intro to Alyssa Chiara
Have you ever experienced something that has changed you? Like really profoundly changed you to the point where you consider it a key part of your identity? Because I have, and I know most of you have too...
#mentalhealth and #mentalwellbeing have been a hot topic in the media for a while now, and it's almost had the opposite effect to what it was supposed to have. The idea was to open the conversation, remove the taboo and help people seek help from within their support networks. My opinion may be biased. but I honestly believe that the intended effect hasn’t occurred at all. If anything, it has made it harder. I see people's expressions of their mental illness on social media and it’s like looking at a model; I feel the need to meet a standard, an expectation. If their story is really really bad, then if mine isn’t that bad, why bother sharing it? I don’t feel like it's good enough. Well... screw that!
I have officially decided that my story does matter, no matter how “unworthy" I feel it is. It does deserve a voice, even if it is little one (about the size of a shy 3-year-old).
So here I go, here’s to a new beginning that is the new beginning of an open story, an open heart and an open mind. Where to start? There is a lot to cover and a multitude of sides to the story. I suppose a good way to begin would be to introduce myself. To give you a perspective of me, a 19-year-old Aussie sitting behind her mother's laptop while on my last day of holidays before its back to the usual full time uni grind. My name is Alyssa Chiara, Alyssa coming from both the actress Alyssa Milano and the Alyssum flowers and Chiara coming from my mother's Catholic saint name, St. Chiara of Assisi, which is my saint name also. I was born in Sydney and raised in the nation's capital, Canberra that is (if you didn’t know). Now in Melbourne for the first of my five year degree in Osteopathy (just think physiotherapist + chiropractor).
I have been a ballerina for as long as I can remember, even now when I haven’t made it to any classes for over a year. Once a dancer always a dancer is my motto, and if anyone asks me, “Why should I put my child through dance?”, the answer just rolls off my tongue. “Because your child will be given the opportunity to learn valuable life lessons in a safe and nurturing environment while building physical fitness and mental endurance." I will always be grateful for the lessons I learned over the many years of dancing throughout primary and high school years. I pushed myself physically to be able to do the difficult techniques and also mentally. Being able to remember complex patterns and turn feedback into a physical improvement is not an easy thing. I attribute these years to the person I am now, also not to forget the life-long friendships I formed.
I would consider myself a very determined and disciplined person. I always set high expectations for myself and often those around me. I see my life as an opportunity to give back to those who gave it to me (my parents) and to build on my skills and knowledge so that I can give back and earn enough money to have fun! I think so many of us forget what all the hard work is ultimately for. As children we were so oblivious to the struggles and hard work ahead, we were simply worried about having fun and being happy. Now as adults we are concerned with stuff, having stuff and making stuff. I definitely like stuff, who doesn’t? But I think that it is important to remember that stuff isn’t everything and that we shouldn’t sacrifice our stories for stuff. And by this I mean our time, our relationships and our wellness.
Sure to be featured in upcoming posts is the term “wellness,” it just happens to have become one of my favourite words over the last few years; that and healthfulness (to be full of health). Health is defined as “a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being, not merely the absence of disease or infirmity” (Medicinenet.com). Notice “mental well-being,” that my friends is what so many are lacking, and they are all intertwined. It is impossible to be one type of well without the others, and a decline in one brings about the decline of the others. Mental well-being is by far the most complex of the three. The body is a machine that can be broken and fixed, but the brain is on a whole other level. I could dive into the deep, deep ocean of mental well-being, but for now, I will merely touch on the fact that it is important to me. And for that reason, I will share its impact in my life.
My story is largely defined by my experience of mental illness, and despite the short timeframe, it had a profound effect. I am a completely different person after my experiences, my treatment, the people I met and the drugs (medication) I took.
I should probably stop here; there is a lot more to share, but for now I hope it was an appropriate introduction. Feel free to form opinions, you are more than entitled to them.
xA
About the Creator
Alyssa Chiara
Sometimes when you've been through alot, sharing your experiences seem like the only logical next step. Grow with me 🌱
Disclaimer - I am not a mental health professional, all content is from personal experience.
Keep reading
More stories from Alyssa Chiara and writers in Motivation and other communities.
That Little Voice in Your Head Is Real
In my last post I gave a little introduction to myself that included a brief overview of my experience of being a dancer and how it made me who I am. I would recommend giving that one a read if you haven’t already. As I said, I am a dancer (despite my lack of actual classes at the moment). Once a dancer always a dancer. The many years of classes and exams made me a very tough and enduring person. But it also gave me the chance to view myself in a way that most people won’t. There is a large difference between looking at yourself in a mirror in the bathroom and standing in a leotard and tights in front of a wall of mirrors and needing to critique the shapes you are making with your body. There is a lot of self-criticism that comes with being a dancer, and this criticism can become all-consuming if you have the predisposition to obsessive behaviour and thought, which I do.
By Alyssa Chiara7 years ago in Psyche
“He Kept Going When No One Was Watching — And That Changed Everything”
No one ever noticed the days he almost gave up. There were no messages asking if he was okay. No one wondered why he became quieter. No one asked how much effort it took just to keep going. To the world, he was just another ordinary man. His name was Ayaan. Ayaan’s life didn’t collapse in one dramatic moment. It slowly faded. Missed opportunities. Rejected ideas. Silent disappointments. Every failure was small, but together they became heavy. He had dreams once. Big ones. Dreams that kept him awake at night, imagining a future where his hard work would finally matter. But over time, those dreams began to feel unrealistic—almost embarrassing. People around him seemed to move forward effortlessly. They celebrated promotions, achievements, and milestones. Ayaan watched from the side, smiling politely while feeling invisible. At work, his efforts were ignored. Among friends, his voice faded. At home, expectations weighed heavily on him. Slowly, a dangerous thought settled into his mind: “Maybe I’m not good enough.” That thought followed him everywhere. It followed him on crowded buses. It followed him into sleepless nights. It followed him every time he tried again and failed. One night, after scrolling through endless success stories online, Ayaan closed his phone and stared at the dark ceiling. His chest felt tight, not because of pain—but because of exhaustion. He whispered quietly, “How long do I keep trying?” There was no answer. But that night, Ayaan made a decision—not a loud one, not a confident one. A tired decision. He decided to keep going, even if nothing changed. The next morning felt the same. The same routine. The same doubts. The same fear of wasting his life. But Ayaan showed up anyway. He worked when no one praised him. He studied when no one guided him. He practiced when no one believed in him. Some days, motivation disappeared completely. On those days, discipline took over. He reminded himself: “I don’t need applause. I need progress.” Weeks passed. Nothing dramatic happened. No sudden success. No recognition. No miracle. But something subtle began to shift. Ayaan became calmer under pressure. He learned to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. He stopped comparing his journey to others. The silence that once scared him now became his training ground. Months later, a serious problem appeared at his workplace. It was complicated, risky, and easy to blame on someone else. Most people avoided it. Some pretended it wasn’t their responsibility. Ayaan didn’t announce himself. He didn’t seek attention. He simply started working. Late nights. Mistakes. Corrections. Learning. There were moments he wanted to quit. Moments when fear whispered, “You’re not ready.” But he answered back, “I’ll learn.” Slowly, the problem began to disappear. Not perfectly—but steadily. People noticed, quietly. One afternoon, his manager called him into the office. Ayaan expected criticism. Instead, he heard a question that stunned him: “Where did you learn all this?” Ayaan paused. How could he explain years of silent effort? How could he explain working when no one cared? He simply replied, “I kept going.” That moment didn’t change his life overnight. He didn’t become famous. He didn’t suddenly become successful. But it changed something far more important. His belief in himself. For the first time, Ayaan understood that life doesn’t always reward effort immediately. Sometimes, it watches. It watches who continues without praise. Who improves without recognition. Who grows in silence. Years later, Ayaan looked back at the version of himself who almost quit. The man who felt invisible. The man who thought no one was watching. And he smiled. Because he finally understood the truth: Life was always watching. Not to judge. Not to rush. But to see if he would keep going when it was hardest. The world doesn’t reward those who only work when they’re seen. It rewards those who build strength in silence. And sometimes, the moment that changes everything doesn’t come with applause. It comes quietly. After patience. After effort. After consistency. That is when everything finally begins to change. Final Message Keep going—even when no one is watching. Especially then.
By Inayat khanabout 13 hours ago in Motivation
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.