Eclipse

From as young as I can remember I wanted to be a writer.

The words do not have to even be read by another pair of eyes.

I just love writing.

It has always been my raison detre.

I have always loved writing.

Perhaps, because I escape to magical lands and different worlds. Or perhaps because I get to connect with different parts of myself by pouring myself into fictional characters that I have created.

Through my poetry and songs and short stories and novel attempts, I escape into the realms of my imagination.

I am enthralled.

That time, that space and that energy is just not invaded by anyone else. I am not bound to it. I am not in a bind with it.

That time and space belongs to me and I am the Master of it.

My Magical Child gets to play.

For years though, most of my life in fact, the Writer that I am and always wanted to be and yearn to be, has been eclipsed by the Coach within me.

The Coach within me was ignited or activated by one conversation with a class mate on my way home from Primary School.

I was only 11 years old at the time.

This classmate was the tallest boy in the class and one of the fastest runners and one of the most popular boys.

I did not have a crush on him or anything like that.

But I loved the fact he was giving me attention outside school.

We did not share conversations outside school.

He hardly acknowledged me.

Except if I got a few rounders in Rounders or hit the ball really high.

I was the shy geeky girl in school. The one with glasses, tight plaits and skinny.

Although I was not the most unpopular, I was not the most popular either.

So during this one conversation outside school as we were walking home, when he was duly impressed with my insights about him and even the harsh truths, I told him that most people had not as they were scared of him, I was enamoured.

I was on top of the world.

My heart rocketed and zoomed.

He uttered three words that showed me how impressed he was with me.

Those three words laid down a path in my psyche that forged the way ahead for the next 39 years that is nearly 4 decades.

Those three words were:

Pretty

Intelligent

Girl

I never saw myself as intelligent.

I am a twin and was constantly compared to my brother as the foolish one, the careless one, the clumsy one. Whereas my twin was the clever one, the careful one and the refined one.

And I never saw myself as pretty.

So for the most popular boy in the class to say it to me and for him to address me as such and in such a way that it was not based on how I looked but because of what I said started my addiction to helping, rescuing, teaching, giving insight and coaching.

It is a healthy addiction but an addiction all the same.

And I got trapped in that world of being a Rescuer.

Until recently when I have realised that Rescuer is not my super power.

It is one of my powers yes but not my super power.

My super power is writing.

Those three words estranged me from myself.

The Writer in me was eclipsed at that precise moment when he said those three words.

Writing I abandoned.

Writing became a poor and weak contender to my time, space and energy.

I got recognition and approval from others based on what I said. I got recognition and approval from others based on telling others harsh truths when no one else was. I got recognition and approval from giving insight and giving advice.

This solidified into a career choice at the age of 14 when I saw I could do that by entering the Profession of Social Work.

It was all downhill for me as a writer after that.

Writing became what I did in my spare time.

Writing was relegated to second in my life.

Yet it was writing that was my companion, my solace and my knight in shining armour when I struggled.

When I needed respite from the challenges of everyday living.

Eclipsed by three words.

The Writer in me was eclipsed by just three words.

And although Social Work and Coaching is what I am very good at. They come very naturally to me. My raison detre is to write and that is what I vow to devote the rest of my life to.

Even if my words are not read, discarded, ridiculed, shamed, criticised, demonised, marginalised, twisted, manipulated, misunderstood, unattributed to me, I do not care.

I will write no matter what.

I will become the Writer I am meant to be, no matter what.

I realise I am the Writer.

No matter what anyone else says or what opportunities come my way.

Writing has been my Truth.

Writing has and always will be my first and true love.

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