"Talent"

Talent.

I hear it all the time.

"You're so talented"

"I wish I had that talent"

"Talented people don't have to worry about working"

"That's because you're talented."

I'm sick of it.

Let me tell you a story.

I used to want nothing to do with art. I wanted to pursue some kind of wildlife biology/zoology career. I loved animals. I still do. All I did was read about animals, their habitats and natural lives.

I also loved Japanese comics and this one video game called Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles. This is important, because one day I drew my little character from this game. I was pleased with the way it turned out. It took me practically forever - especially for a 14 year-old in this day and age, but I liked it.

I was also surrounded by a bunch of art lovers from school. Please keep in mind that all of these artists have been pursuing art since they were in elementary school. I was incredibly far behind. However, I liked the challenge, so I decided to continue drawing.

Art soon became my obsession. A way of living. A way of seeing. A way of breathing.

All I did was draw. And draw. And draw. I did not just pick up a pencil and have the magical worlds of my imaginings appear on the paper on my lap.

That's just not how it works. I worked for that ability. I WORKED for that so-called TALENT.

Yes. I am talented in art. I worked my butt off for it.

I'm no better than the person next to me, though. He/she is definitely better than me in many different fields.

I'm tired of people thinking that I was born with the eye for art. I wasn't. I was born with the ability to grow and learn. Just like everyone else.

People'd Out

Once my roommate told me that she couldn't determine if I was the most anti-social social person or the most social anti-social person she ever met. I told her that I was probably the most social anti-social person. More times than not I prefer to be alone. Even when I want to be with others, I never really want a bunch of people around me. I hate crowds. And I have a low tolerance for a lot of people and what they do and their different quirks etc.

A lot of the people around me are those who I spend more time helping than anything else. There are a few friends who I would be friends with even if they never needed anything from me. I'm tired of being expected to do something for everyone. I know people need my help, but when do I get a break?

I'm so used to helping others that I don't even consider my own schedule anymore. I send more text messages that say "I'm here" (to pick people up) and answering favors than anything else.

I've reached my limit. I feel like I can't ask for help. I can't even ask others for a little bit of their time. I don't need to talk about my problems. I just need social interaction. I have a few friends that are also busy helping others or with their own agendas and I can't ask them to do what I always do for others to the point of hating it.

I keep telling myself to just suck it up. It'll be over soon enough. I'll get used to it again. I'm strong enough to deal with this. I always have dealt with it. Nothing has changed. I don't need the dog that I've wanted for so long so I could have something that would love me. Something that would be able to spend time with me and go on walks at the park with me whenever I'm free. I can do that alone, right?

The Beauty of Healing

This is a very personal post, so if you are one of those people who hates reading about trials in other's lives I would suggest you don't read this one.

I'm going to be honest. I have been in pain. For the past 12 years I had held onto what one person did to me for so long, that I could no longer trust very many people. This was not fair to all the people that I had come in contact with. They deserved my trust and they've done nothing wrong that proved otherwise.

I realized that this was an issue about 2, almost 3 years ago. I didn't want to admit that anything was wrong, though. I thought that maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. I was wrong. The wound never healed, but festered with infection and kept coming back, worse each time.

Last night I wrote a letter. A letter to the person that hurt me so much that I became this way. I doubt he remembers what he did to me, but I remembered.

Today I burned that letter. As that letter burned I promised that I would let what was holding me down go. I let go of that burden on my shoulders.

I took a picture of the fire and sent it to my good friend who is the only person who knows what I was struggling through. And then I cried.

I'm still not sure if I was crying because of the loss of what I had been holding on to or because I could FINALLY move on. I am finally willing to begin trusting others and allowing them closer to me. I'm pretty sure it was a mix of both.

I had grown comfortable with my pain. I had grown even more comfortable with the barriers that I had put up so no one would be able to cause that much pain in my life ever again. As of today, I am breaking down those barriers.

I know I am not completely healed yet. I know the would will still itch and that I'll have to keep constant care of it, but I'm ready to let it heal properly this time.