Admit

Last week, for the first time, few people, who were not my friends or family, liked the post that I wrote in this blog. And it gave me a huge feeling of awe, followed by an even bigger fear a tiny moment later. A fear whispering: OMG, now it’s serious, so I have to do it well, OMG, what if don’t like the next piece and stop following me…?, They’ve been doing it for longer than me and will probably judge me…Aaaaaaaaaaaa!

I don’t know how it happened that total strangers found a way via digital wires to my site, but I know that for the first time I chose to publish something publicly on FB. Maybe I was tired from the move and packing of the past few days, certainly I was not being rational. Apart from writing to myself, for myself and about myself, and couple of incidental articles I wrote to a teenage magazine 15 years ago, there was no trace of my artistic attempts noted in this galaxy…So what’s changed?

It’s precisely one year ago when I dropped my promising career in a worldwide consulting company rhyming with adventure (which btw turned out to be the contrary) where I reached a point when I wanted to escape the life I was living, literally, through the window on the 13th floor. Fortunately, the company policy was to locate their offices in buildings where windows would not open (and now I can totally see why). It was on March 8th, as a gift for the woman that I was, when I registered my 1 person business as a translator. I did work for few months in the field and for some time I thought I was fulfilled and finally found exactly what I had been looking for. However, this idyll didn’t last long as, again, there was one tiny detail missing – ME. What does it mean exactly?

Trying to speak about myself as humble as possible and quietening the ego to the lowest volume, I ADMIT that the artist in me was awaken. It no longer wanted to read other people’s books, fantasies or legal drafts, it wanted to create on its own. And what is more important, it didn’t want to excuse everybody around for…BEING AROUND. And if acknowledging it myself was a mile stone, then telling it to the world was like a step on the moon. I think it would have been easier for me to tell my parents that I was lesbian if I was one. My artistic COMING OUT was difficult bearing in mind that I followed my parents advice to study Economics. – “At least you will a job in a bank”,  and as much as I regard some people working in financial institutions, the result of trying to put me behind the counter was similar to crusades, I suffered, I bled and finally surrendered, preserving little debris of the inner culture. This treasure was hidden underneath for years until digged out by an archeSOULogist, my best friend Selena ♥♥♥, who made me reach for it, polish it and make the best use of it. Suddenly more and more artistic energy was flowing my way from other friends, both old and new.

So one year later, here I am, writing, not only for myself anymore nor just for the pleasure of others, but out of pure liking and natural need. I finally admit that it’s something I wanna do, so I do it!

Thank you!

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