You might know me as that eclectic indie author who calls her debut novel her first baby and who shouts about it way too often. My friends know me as that one in the group who takes enjoyment out of hurting her imaginary friends. My cat knows me as that human who can’t leave him alone for two seconds (in my defence he’s too cute to not touch and cuddle every time I pass him). My mum knows me as her daughter who would happily do a Lord of the Rings trilogy marathon and would keep pausing the film to recite off her list of facts about each and every scene even though she’s told them all before, at least ten times by now. I know me as a goth purple loving rainbow enthusiast grandma in a twenty-year old’s body.

Not to toot my own horn, but I published my first book at twenty-one. My upcoming one I will have published when I’m twenty-two. I have won first place a couple of time at my local art competition, coming second and third when I didn’t. I’ve been a teacher’s assistant for five months (quit that to become a fulltime writer). Having said all this, did you know I was a high school dropout at sixteen?

I hated my last six months of high school. The only classes I enjoyed was English and Art (wasn’t that real life foreshadowing, lol). November of 2018, I stopped going to school. In the six months (or if I’m being totally honest, the five years) up to this, due to stress I had constipation, I had almost daily headaches, and the occasional migraine. I was always making the school ring my mum to come pick me up and as soon as I got home, I felt tons better.

This went on until for about a week mum was ringing each morning saying I wasn’t coming in. I’d go to bed fine but wake up feeling ill. Then came the day I will never forget. Mum forced me into the car one morning, adamant I was going to school that day. I cried the whole way up to when we got to the crossroads, ten minutes into the twenty-minute journey to school. Turn left, it would take us there, turn right and we could loop back around back towards home. I could not face going into school and I convinced mum to take us home. She did.

That afternoon I did a little research.

Didaskaleinophobia.

That’s quite an impressive word, isn’t it?

It means the fear of school or of going to school. That is what I had developed. The mere thought of going there had my stomach roiling. Still does even after six years.

I seem to quit schools in December, there’s a definite theme there. I officially left school in middle of December—and four years later I quit working in a school, right before Christmas.

My point of sharing this with you is to say, school isn’t for everyone. I had loved the idea of school; I just didn’t like the people in it. I loved learning too, but I couldn’t stomach the tests and the stress of it all. I left for my physical and mental health, not because I didn’t want to make a life for myself. Sure, it closed a few doors for me, and I got lost for a long while, but I found my passion in the end at the right time. I regret nothing in dropping out, it was the right thing for me. Just like it was the right thing for my best friend to go on and do another five years of extra studies to pursue her dream. We are all different in the way we learn and live in this hectic world.

From middle school onwards, I felt alone, unheard, unseen, and simply not myself. I had put on a mask for so long to get by, to not be bullied or criticised, it took me years to peel that mask off and truly be myself.

Not everyone’s journey is the same, some of us get shortcuts shown to us, while others get lost and lose our footing. I lost mine, and may have landed on my hands and knees, got a few scrapes and a broken heart along the way but I got there. I discovered who I really am and I’m never putting that mask on ever again. I found my passion and people came into my life almost by magic at the right times to give me a hand up.

Keep moving forward, don’t worry about the journey, that’s what makes you unique. Don’t be afraid to tell your story because someone else’s might share a similar chapter, or even just a paragraph.

I found my life’s calling, and I hope you find yours if you haven’t already. Don’t be afraid to think outside of the box or not do what everyone else is doing!

This post came to be while being inspired by this song:

I've cheated and I've lied
I've broke down and I've cried
I've got nothing to hide no more

I've loved and I've hurt
I've broken people down with words
More grace than I deserve, for sure

Known to be crazy, known to be wild
Mama had herself a little devilish child
Ain't no stranger to the troubles at my door

I've been at the wrong place at the wrong time
Chasing all the wrong things most of my life
Been every kind of lost that you can't find
But I got one thing right

One Thing Right by Marshmello and Kane Brown

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