Lately I've been stuck in the past, reminiscing of my childhood...
Through the shaded history of my being I've come to grow into a young woman of surprising strength, and everyday that passes I feel a small sense of pride. I made it through another day. If you've ever battled through depression and loneliness like I have, then you'll understand, everyday is a struggle. Still, I am way too stubborn to let it beat me.
Even though I've had a tough beginning, I think about what kind of world I want to bring my future children into. What do I want to teach them? How should I prepare them for a harsh reality that doesn't seem to be shown in society until school is finished, when it is already too late? Then, I think about the good in my childhood. The camping trips, the exploration of nature, travelling across Canada and seeing its many wonders. I think about the people I've met along the way, on my journey to womanhood, and eventually (sometime soon, probably) motherhood. How quickly the chapters of my life flash by my eyes. I can look at life two ways. Everyday I die a little, or, everyday I live a little. I come alive with thoughts and inspiration, this twinkle in my heart is more than just the burning embers of a dying heart, it's a blaze of passion for the life I'm living.
If I had to look back at my childhood and change things, I would change my lack of motivation. I would encourage myself to keep learning the piano, to keep drawing, and to never stop writing. Those are the things that make me happy now, even though I'm not very good at them. However, life isn't over yet.
