Just like any other writers, I write because of my passion. I started writing as a kid, when I was just 10 years old. I started writing stories at a young age, my world began to expand at a young age. The passion I have for writing was undeniably burning. But not until the cold came to slowly put out the fire.
Fame was a trophy for someone who never expected it. I experienced fame. Not a celebrity like fame, but a fame that’s just enough for a writer. A little bit of fame that got so high up in my head. With a taste of it, I lost the main reason why I am writing. I am not the writer I was before. There was point in my life that I’ll just write for money. I’ll write for attention. I’ll write for praise. The hunger to write what’s in my heart was all gone. My mind was bombarded with the idea of getting up there where the other writers are.
The hardest part was when I also lost my own identity as a writer. I believed in what others have to say with my works. I was trying to reach the standards of those who see my works as a work of low class literature. I started to doubt myself. I explored different genres of writing fiction and poetry. I focused on the technical side and forgot to work on the heart of my piece. But don’t get me wrong. Going outside your comfort zone is a good way to improve your writing skills. But what I did was not to improve. I did it because I wanted to impress them. I did it because I wanted to show them that I am on the same standard as them.
Now, I wanted to go back to square one. I’m going to start all over again without the need of fame or the need to impress somebody. Writing is for someone who has an untold story waiting to be shared. Writing is for someone who has the heart to share. Not to be known and not to be paid for it. Even though my passion and I got separated, got lost and forgotten, I’ll find my way back on track.