The first Fry

There are times when you face a white page. Maybe the white page of your life, the life you have spent doing nothing with it but listening to others how to be, what to say, what to desire, how to desire, and so on. I know you know what I’m talking about.

But you are afraid of telling that to yourself. You are too afraid. I was too And I know exactly how you feel because exactly in this moment when I’m writing this words, I’m feeling the same. There is a little but strong voice that says exactly the same as yours do «are you sure you want to say that? Everybody is going to laugh at you! Erase that, don’t embarrass yourself, this is is so stupid »

Every time I start something new, something different, something valuable to me, this powerful voice appears and leaves me feeling guilty Or stupid of my desires, my ideas, my likes and dislikes, how I feel, how I think, what I do, what I don’t, it chases me during my dreams, when I’m in love, when I love things, when I don’t. There is an enormous terror of disobey that voice. I’m so afraid of not listening to she that I always succumb and I always do as it pleases. Because other wise I’m afraid something terrible will happen.

This routine has been going on In my life since I was a kid. In the beginning I was ashamed of what I liked to do at school. When I was 3 years old, there were two things I loved to do, create figures with red clay and see little insects or plants they put inside a little fishbowl . I loved that so much, it was the most thrilling and fun thing to do, but The voice started to whispering things in my ears and started to telling me «playing with clay is for girls, look, no boy is playing with clay, and the clay is besides where most of the girls are, don’t play with that!» And I stopped playing with that. I thought that everyone will be more pleased if I played with the things I didn’t liked. And so I did, that was the beginning.

But It was a struggle, it was something that left me feeling bad inside, like if I were cheating on myself, actually that’s when I felt guilty for the very first time, then I didn’t knew what it was that feeling nor where it came from. But it was a feeling that came to stay and numb me inside.

It’s curious how life is. Now thirty four years after that, I see how deep was the connection with art and nature. I’m a photographer and got admitted to study Biology. But even though both were my passion I always felt guilty of doing things like that even now.

The voice told me you will not earn a dime, art it is stupid, it is for hippies, for losers, biology it is not glamorous, where you will work?

To be continued…

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