Finding my reason to write

Hi stranger,

I'm getting out of my comfort zone. Would you like to take a ride with me? Don't worry, I'll be the one to feel everything, you'll just be my emotional support. I believe that if you found me, there was a reason for it. Let's just have a nice chat and I'll tell you about who I am and find, along the way, the answers to those questions myself.

Let's establish some trust first. I want you to think that we're already friends and that you can trust me, that your opinion matters to me and I would never be judgmental. As a person who wishes to publish a book someday, I'm having the approach of "never to judge, always to understand". I didn't walk your shoes and you didn't walk mine, but I can have respect and empathy for your journey. In fact, I'm so fascinated by human behavior that it seems like a crime to put unique and complex personalities in different boxes that match a certain criteria.

I never know what I'll write about or how long it will be. I'm just going with the flow. Writing for me is a process of slowing down my thoughts just enough so I could actually form sentences on a paper. But looking back at everything I wrote to myself all this years, I can see a story, a journey, a lot of pain but also a lot of transformation of that energy into something better.

I promise to be an open book. I'm not afraid of emotions and feelings and being vulnerable and showing it is how I transform perpetually into a better version of myself. I believe that my purpose in this life is to bring knowledge and wisdom to people by teaching them what I know and learn every day. So today, I'm taking a leap of faith and just allowing myself to self-express and not be afraid of the consequences.

My pen name is Margo, but it's also my inner self name. She's like the best part of me, always kind, always knowing what words to say. Mostly, when I write, she takes control so I wanted to pay her respect for the wise words she usually writes. I promise that you will get my most authentic self you can get. This is an easy promise. I just don't know how to be somebody else. I would be a terrible actress. I don't even dress up for Halloween. I'm me at all times. I just turned 27 if that is of any matter. I personally feel like 19. What I do in life is not important as I do not want to discuss mundane things and I don't feel like my work represents who I am as I person. In fact, I dislike small conversations very much. I don't know how to sustain them. It feels like they drain my energy and it's just plain superficial. Give me some deep conversations about life, death and everything in between and then you can have my attention.

It's hard to know where to start when it feels like I have so much to say and yet, I don't want you to run away. I've been conflicted like that all my life. I listen a lot, I have a lot to say and yet I almost never express what's on my mind. But I do want to be heard. And I never was. And it's a trauma that I carried a lot of years. So the main reason why I'm here in this present moment, writing down my story is cause I matter. My story is as unique as any other story and I deserve to put it out there if it will allow me to heal and teach others how to do it as well.

I need to heal my throat chakra and express myself and I do it most efficiently by writing. For many years I asked myself what I'm excellent at, I could never find my answer. I felt like I was good at a lot of things. In fact, any new hobby I picked, I was good at it, but nothing felt like my niche and I longed for that. Writing in journals is something I did for years, but it was until recently, when I shared my journal with a couple of close friends that I was told that I have some way with words. And I decided to trust that feeling. Their belief in me was enough to be where I am today.

The first time I remember consciously having a journal was at 14 when my mother was pregnant with my brother. I never had an easy relationship with her, but it seemed that 9 months of changing hormones and having her partner far from home made her unbearable. But I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I vented in my journal. I needed to direct that anger somewhere and at least tell somebody how terrible she was. But my mother being the mother she is and not knowing what boundaries are, she not only read my private journal, she yelled at me and was mad for something she had no right to do in the first place.

I believe my mother is a root cause of most of my problems. I felt invisible most of my life because of her. I was an emotionally neglected child. I had everything, food, clothes, a roof, everything but that love and care a mother should give her child. My mom cared more about partying with her friends. My mom dumped on me the responsibility to basically raise a kid at 15. My mom did a lot of abuse to me that I just swallowed and never wanted to tell to not hurt her feelings. That's my thing : always thinking about the feelings of somebody else when they would hurt me without blinking. She influenced a lot of decisions in my life, but I learned early to trust myself first and listen but not always agree to her.

The thing is... I've bottled up a lot of frustrations and I need to sort them through. This is my therapy right here cause I have all the answers, I just need to lay them all down on a paper and see the big picture. And if along the way, you find things or stories that resonate with you, you are most welcome to take the messages and answers with you. I'm here to spread light, love and kindness. There's so much darkness out there already, sometimes I feel like the world needs more.. Me!

I thank you for your time reading my brief introduction.

Much love,

Margo