Okay, I’ll admit. I like to write about people in my life. (Surprise.) If you haven’t noticed, I do not really care whether or not I hurt someone’s feelings with what I write about. I always felt like if you hurt someone, you have what is coming for you. You know, the whole Karma thing. Recently, however, I was stuck. I was unable to write about my life and my relationships and how I was feeling. It’s a long story. Basically the story of how I felt like I wanted to never write again. So I did. I didn’t write.

And I was miserable. I was blocked.

I thought a couple months ago that I had reached one of the hardest times in my life. It is not fun to be put through situations that hurt you so bad that you just cry and cry and...cry. And all I wanted to do was write about it. All I wanted was to roast and rant about the person who caused me pain. But, as I sat at the computer, Taylor Swift blasting, I blanked. I couldn’t think of anything. It was as if I had no words. I had nothing to say.

And I thought about how this has never happened. I thought about how scared I was that the one thing that made me feel better was not working. The one thing I could rely on was broken. I was broken, and I couldn’t even write down how I felt.

So, I shut the computer and I shut down.

I sat up late at night with no thoughts. Usually, my mind races with poetic sentences and stories at night, but for a week my mind just felt distressed. It is so hard to describe how your mind feels when it just feels nothing. It is just numb.

Every night I looked at that damn computer scream and hated myself for not being able to fix myself. I couldn’t do it. I was mad at me, which made the writer’s block worse.

Then, I had my first good day. You know, the day where you wake up and you feel better. Not all the way better, but your reason for not being yourself isn’t the first thing that pops into your mind. You feel a little bit of you come back to life.

Every day I felt better until it finally clicked. It all made sense to me. This was supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to write anything down.

Because what had hurt me didn’t even deserve my words.

I have always been complimented for my articles, papers and writing in general. And it is something I stopped being embarrassed of enough to start writing for Odyssey. It is something I am proud of. And it took me a little bit of hiding to realize that. I needed to stop writing to realize how much I need it. I need my writing, and people who don’t appreciate it do not deserve it.

To the people waiting for an article to basically destroy the person who hurt me, you’ll never get it, because it’s not worth my time. I’d rather write about things that excite me and make me happy, and I don’t have time to spite people or get back at people. I write for me not for others.

So if you’ve made it this far, thank you. Thank you for supporting me when I felt like giving up and felt like never publishing something ever again. I need people who support me, read my stuff and like it. You don’t have to agree with what I say, but feedback and words of support mean everything to me. Nothing makes me feel more special than when someone tells me how my writing has helped them or inspired them. That means the world to me.

So, I guess my moral is this—the world may lead you astray from what you are meant to do, but you will always find your way back. People may try to stop you from achieving your dreams and goals, but never stop. Never stop doing what makes you happy because it will take you places. I hope one day I can go back and thank the people who told me to keep writing. Because without those people, who knows if I would have written this? What would I have not written in the future?

Even though I stopped for a hot sec, please expect more articles from me. But don’t expect anything about people that don’t deserve it.