Growing Through My Writing

Ever look at your old pics and think, what the heck was I thinking? Why would anyone allow me to go out with that? Yes? Me too!

These questions come to mind while searching through my old journals and blog posts:

  1. Who allowed me to grab a pen?
  2. Why did I write this?
  3. What was I thinking?

*proceeds to burn paper and laptop*

On the upside, looking at your past work allows a person to see how far they’ve come, it can also humble you, and in a way, allows the person to remember their goal/meaning behind it all:

Why did I start writing?

In my case, there are different stages/reasons behind my writing

  1. I wanted to improve my English and I wanted to escape from my surroundings

Image result for little kid writing on a paper gif

Storytime: I came to the US in’94 and when I say, the kids and adults around were horrible that would be me putting it lightly. I hated being bullied because I sounded or spoke weird and I wanted to escape (I couldn’t run) so I read and wrote. I wrote anything and everything. My grammar, sentence structure, and everything was a mess, but I didn’t care because I found something that I could call my own and that allowed me to escape from my misery.

2. Writing not to fail

Image result for little kid typing gif

Storytime: As a Political Science major, courses the majority of our work is written, we present orally, and we cry tears of anguish because all we do is write and debate.  I enjoyed every moment of it! To polish my writing and because I think I was a little pretentious, I enrolled in courses that allowed me to seem important and just pompous exhibit A: Philosophy of Love and Sex. I was really full of myself until one of my professors  *cut me down some notches*

“Ms. Ghansah, I personally despise reading your work, it’s not your fault, it’s just the school system has failed you; you’ll probably one of the students who drops out before your senior year. Don’t blame yourself, okay, have a great day”


I just sat and thought, I need to get help before it’s too late. I went to tutoring, asked friends for help, kept looking for approval from friends, strangers, professors, and even children. My writing became worse by Graduate school, I kept writing and then I began to hate it, this thing called writing. What was so great about it? In the end, I became closed off and stopped writing; even stopped speaking.  That is, until 2015

3. Wanting to find my voice again

Image result for little kid typing gif

Storytime: While job searching and looking through my old files I found a note

2014: I want to start writing again

I looked at that short sentence, studied the strokes and I saw it: A girl desperate to be heard to be seen, it wasn’t in a shallow manner. When I looked at the strokes, I wanted to be heard and seen not by anyone else but myself. I wanted to write for myself, to find out who I was as a person. Then I asked myself the same question: Why did I start writing?

I began to write to escape, to figure out who I was as a person, and also, it was something I loved to do. It wasn’t about anyone else, just me, me and my writing. Yes, my punctuation, grammar and everything in between is horrible but I love writing. So I began to write: I started this blog, started a writing/book review blog, another one about sexual health information, and wrote on medium.

It didn’t matter if others loved it or not, as long as I was happy, as long as I succeeded in my own eyes. Whatever that means, I’m not saying, I won’t take critiques (I welcome ALL feedback) I’m saying, I won’t stop doing what I love just because someone or something tells me it’s not worth it.  Looking back at my writing I’ve come a long way and I have far to go. Writing/blogging allowed me to grow and find my voice and that makes me the happiest Inexperienced Writer Ever!

Please look forward to an improved Jo


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