It’s said the beginning is always a good place to start. But which beginning should I start at though, which version of myself should I thoroughly go into? In this instance, I think I will start with my passion for writing. Growing up, my dad always gave me old yearly planners; I never knew why, but I accepted it wholeheartedly (maybe he knew about my future knack for writing). The outdated planners never bothered me because I would always be creative with the dates so that the years matched.

I vividly remember spending weekends with him just playing as he wrote in his journal. I never knew what he was writing, but it seemed necessary. I wanted to experience that level of importance, so I wrote too. Write what you may ask? Random things! For as long as I could remember, I had a wandering mind. I would find myself thinking about a particular situation, and that would start a domino effect until I would be lost in a trance. I believe that writing introduced itself to me because my mind needed room to grow and giving the words this new home would start the mandatory manifestation process.

Every weekend when I visited my dad, I would bring my journal with me. So when he wrote, I would be in my corner doing the same. I shared all my thoughts and fought hard to keep it my own but unfortunately, having Caribbean parents denied me the opportunity for privacy. It was frustrating because I always had to hold back, and this prevented me from honestly expressing myself. The annoyance birth the idea of writing poems, I thought it was the best because I could write about how I felt while denying the reader(s) the full story.

Writing poetry in my spare time was something big for me. Getting the opportunity to dig deep to create these narratives was grand. I loved reading so that only boosted my passion. I started off writing about random stuff, but as my thoughts grew more complexed, so did the poems. It always felt good when I showed selected persons my work, and they would be impressed with the delivery. However, even with these praises, I often took breaks because I never felt my words were good enough to be expressed to the world. I imagined myself as a new mother, and as such, wanted to protect my babies from judgement. I seldom created new stuff until I was forced to get back into it.

When poetry came back into my life, it stuck! It came at the time when I found myself, my confidence, my voice and the need to share with the world. Writing poetry is fun, but it’s always good to go back to where I started, writing randomly while my mind guides the pen. Writing down my thoughts, whether organised or not, has become a part of me, and I will continue to do so hence these blogfessions.

Hope you enjoyed this prologue as part of the blogfessions of a nomadic spirit.