Thank YOU!

Today marks exactly one year to the day I pulled together courage to sign up for a blog. A blog where I would be woman enough to share the one thing that is so dear to me in the world, my writing. I'm an oddly carefree yet protective person. I mean I will never take the space of someone or something I love, I will let it be in all its entirety and love it freely. But to share it with anyone else, that is a tough thing for me to do. But after many deep reflective and thoughtful days and nights, I concluded that if I truly love something in its actuality I must also let it be shared by other people. Give the gift of something beautiful that I have to others. Because if it touches my heart and comes from my heart it must mean something. And what is there to lose? So I started loving it even more, to a point where I could let it go, let it be shared. And then I wasn't scared of what people would say about it, or what they'd think about it. I wasn't shy about it, neither was I nervous or embarrassed (apply this to a real person if you may too). Because my love for writing still exists, now in the open, and everyone knows about it, so what's to lose. At the most, they'd think I'm a mad woman trying to bring crazy or stupid thoughts together. I'm okay with that.
I always knew I wasn't the usual kid. I always knew I wasn't on the larger sibling group but the cornered one. Always stood up for myself. And if I didn't then I learned to (by the way, I have amazing and supportive siblings, now ;)). I used to have problems speaking in English (sometimes still do) in 4th grade I remember. Some new 'friends' including my best friend (don't get me wrong that girl will give her life for me now) made fun of my English, was it the pronunciation, accent or lack of vocabulary I can't clearly remember. But from thereon, I resolved to myself that I will fix this. I will not be made fun of. Maybe I took that the mockery too seriously, but I have always been a sensitive child, and my emotions run deep. Words resonate in my mind for years. If you had told me you owe me a call years ago, I still remember that you did. The mockery was the turning point in my life, towards a new found friend among adversity called language - English and Urdu in my case. I started reading books, I always had a dictionary in hand, and I loved my language teachers. All of them. Ms. Anita George. Ms. Parveen Zafar. They guided me into the realm of prose and literature, with careful steps and then I ran and waded through them.
I am still learning, and I am not great at it. There are a million people out there who write better than me. But I have read somewhere, that talent or skills don't get you to the top, persistence does. And I believe in that. I believe in myself. I can write. Because I am an emotionally unstable and vulnerable person. I have major mood swings. I can be a bitch or be a diva in my own right. I think I'm always right. I make pathetic decisions at times. But I don't regret anything I have ever done. So I don't fear of after effects. I make it a point that I learn from the experience gained and move forward with a constructive and optimistic outlook to everything. So notions of identity has completed a full year. This last paragraph are my notions of identity, of course never complete. I don't think I will ever fully find myself. Because I am lost in the very act of finding myself. So here I am, stranded somewhere on this journey of life. I don't mind being stuck here for a while. I'm enjoying so far, watching others pass by. Thank you for being on this journey with me.