I’ve always kept notebooks and notepads that held scribbles of whatever word were swimming around in my head. I used to write anything and everything; poems, songs, stories- I remember in third grade I even had a baby blue and pink notebook that I used to document my morning and night routines in detail (yes, I was an annoying type A content creator before it was a thing). Literature excited me. The was people could dissect and assemble the English lexicon to convey a message was beautiful to me. The way a human being could construct ideas and take a reader, or listener, to lands far, far away or to lands that don’t even exist excited me in a beautiful way. A human being could bear her soul on to pages and give healing to someone on the other side of the world. That’s power. Storytelling changes the world.
Around seventh grade, there was a shift. Being a cool girl took precedent to my love for writing and reading. I started liking boys, made friends, and my notebooks starting collecting dust. I put the pen down and turned into an annoying tween. The “look at me, I’m a weirdo who will be never understood” kind of annoying at that. Then, after that was over, I owned my innate trait of being an overachiever. All of this while being an “A student” (I was gifted and my parents didn’t play that.) So, I went from an annoying tween to an overachieving student who had ties to every extracurricular and community group that I could find. There was no time to write then (in ninth grade Rebecca’s defense, it worked out pretty well). Then college came and it reintroduced me to my first love.
I am fortunate to be able to attend one of the best institutions of learning in the world, the illustrious Howard University. Howard is home to so many talented, hard-working creatives and I’ve become friends with some amazing writers, many of them that have blogs. I was inspired, that I decided I wanted to have my own platform to share my writing, so I started another blog. Oh yeah, I had a fashion blog for about a year in high school. I was so anxious to have something to call my own, that I haphazardly threw up a blog that I kept up with for about two months.
While I was home for spring break, one of my friends introduced me to journaling. I bought a notebook and wrote my way out of the dark. When I started writing every day, I wanted to read every day. So, I did. My love came back like it never left.
Then, there was another setback, I was scared that having a blog to share my writing was going to be lost in this internet space of content curation and think pieces, but that’s stupid. I’m not scared of my words getting lost and overlooked in a sea of listicles and think pieces because they’re mine. Writing is how I can best articulate myself. My writing is unique. It’s different. No one has my expertise, no one knows what I know, no one is me. My voice is valuable, and my voice is needed. Before I am a content creator, a creative, or whatever we call people these days, I’m a writer. No one can take that away from me.