I am good enough for me.
As a kid, I never thought much of myself.
I was always being compared to someone else.
There was always someone better than me. There was always a better daughter, student, friend than me.
There was always someone smarter, prettier, more organized, more disciplined, more level-headed than me.
There was always someone who deserved more than me.
Believing I deserved crumbles, crumbles are all I aimed for. A C in Math was okay. A coffee invitation from a friend only because there was no one else available was okay. A smile from a guy who never bothered talking to me was okay.
Did I want more? Did I need more? You bet. But I never thought I would get them, therefore I never asked for them.
Books, movies and TV shows became my safe heaven. I would lose myself in the characters and their stories, I would travel far away from a reality that was hurting me. I would replay my favorite scenes over and over in my head, often making them more dramatic to create intensity.
I remember with how much anticipation I was waiting for the next episode of my favorite series, the new book by my favorite author, the new movie by my favorite director. Butterflies in my stomach, trembling hands, couldn’t stand still. Coffee or hot cocoa in hand, I would dive in and completely forgot everything else. I was deeply and madly in love with a life I could only live vicariously through others.
It was then when I realized that creating new worlds is what I was destined to do. Writing was giving me the opportunity to change reality into something that filled me with excitement, got my creative juices flowing, made me believe in a better world. Through writing I could be the writer, the director, the actor, and the reader, all at once; I could create and destroy, build, destroy and rebuilt all over again. For the first time in my life, I was in control and boy, did I love that!
Started studying creative writing to hone my writing skills and learn useful techniques and before long, I started writing my first flash fiction stories and short stories. At first, I would write them on a blog, and as feedback was pretty good, I started sending them to mags and online publications.
I remember my first rejection; that did not go well. Fragile as I was from years of being rejected as a person, I could not understand that this was not personal. I took it as a sign, that once again, I was not good enough, that someone else was better than me. Devastated, I decided to give up on writing. Shallowing my pain in vanilla ice cream, I cried my eyes out till I fall asleep right in front of my computer.
When I woke up, I decided to delete all my emails, I could not handle another rejection email and I was convinced that was all I would get. After deleting them all, I decided to go check my spam folder; edited to add, I almost never check my spam folder, I usually just delete everything. But on that day, for a reason I still cannot understand, I did check my spam folder. And through the junk, I found gold. A small new mag in my hometown, literally within walking distance from my house had accepted my 370- word flash fiction story titled ‘’ And Then He Came Back’’ The story would be published in the next mag issue, and I would be paid $35 via PayPal!
I was so excited I couldn’t and wouldn’t hide it! I remember jumping up and down, screaming like a little girl. I was worthy of something after all, and guess what, it was not crumbles!
I kept on writing. Some of my stories were accepted, and some were rejected; I did not keep track because I no longer cared. What mattered is that I knew I was good, good enough to get published, good enough to get paid, good enough to not be compared to anyone else.
I was good enough for me.
