“Write your story” are the words that appeared in this very text box when I opened this blog post to write. What a simple phrase loaded with so much meaning!
My story is a long one, a difficult one. Often times when recalling it I begin crying. I have cried a lot to myself, my husband, my friends, and my counselor. One day I will have the courage to tell you all of the secrets that hide behind my smile. Often I want to tell everything that has happened to my family and myself, but feel it unfair to the rest of my family as they have not come to acceptance with our past. I fear they live in the past far to often and it causes them to approach the future as if they are driving with the brights on in a fog. I did the same for years. I approached each event with the bleakness of the past. Through prayer, therapy, and a lot of mellow-dramatic meltdowns while listening to Vance Joy and Judah and the Lion I have learned to use my past as building blocks. It has helped shape me into the person I am. It is because of my past that I have been able to accomplish all that I have.
There were holes. So many holes in my childhood. The holes in the roof that let in the rain, holes in the floor that let in the snakes and rats, holes in our family because everyone had a tinge of hate in their heart, and a hole in my life. A hole created because I felt unloved and unhappy.
I was smart in my youth. I felt it was the only thing I was good at. The only thing I was praised for. So I joined Beta Club and the National Honor Society. I won Beta Member of the year when I was in 6th grade. Every year I got a packet of awards mailed to my house. My parents didn’t always make it to the end of the year award ceremony. When I was younger they did and beamed with pride for my achievements. As I got older they said that they knew I would get all the awards and thus there was no reason to go. So I got a packet mailed to me each summer with awards. I have no idea where those are. Teachers have submitted me for national awards that I have won. My name is published in books that I don’t have a clue what they are named. I wanted the approval of my parents. I wanted them to be proud, so I did the thing that I was accepted for. I got smarter, I got more awards in hopes that they would notice me. In 8th grade I received my first scholarship. That is where I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
I suppose before I tell you about the end of the tunnel, I should back up to to the entrance. I come from a family with an abusive father. A father who always said how much he loved us, but never showed it. Who said he was proud, but never came to a school function. And mom was so busy trying to make it through the day and keep from falling apart herself. I knew I could not stay there in our 2 bedroom, 1 bath trailer surrounded by unhappiness and fighting. It all seemed hopeless until I got my first scholarship in 8th grade. I don’t even remember applying for it. Definitely something mom would have done for me.
“$2,000 to Sabri that will continue to grow until she withdraws it for college!” the announcer yelled. What? I thought. Someone will pay me to go to college? That is when I found the door out. I got more scholarships and grants throughout the years and was able to pay for tuition throughout my 5 years at University. ( I am truly blessed to have had this money. ) I worked every day I didn’t have classes to pay for rent and supplies.
“Go for Nursing,” my mother said, “If you don’t, I won’t help you with college.” So I went for nursing. I hated every minute of it. About a year in, I knew I wouldn’t be happy, but if I didn’t complete this program, I wouldn’t have the funds to pay for my last year of college. I had already used that scholarship money for my nursing pre-reqs. So I pursued. I graduated from the most competitive nursing program in Louisiana with a minor in Psychology. Through the years post graduation, I have battled with finding the right specialty for me. That maybe I would learn to love it. But through the years my body has grown tired, my compassion worn thin, and my unhappiness increased.
I realized that it wasn’t the money that would make me happy. I thought back to my happiest days and in them, I had so much less than I do today. Wasn’t that why I continued to be a nurse, for the money? That’s when I quit my job.
My constant soundtrack for life for the past year has been Suite and Jacket by Judah and the Lion. The words just speak to my soul!
I returned to work about a week ago to drop of my badge. Everyone I passed said “You look so happy!” I didn’t even realize I was beaming.
I decided to create my own happiness. I kept waiting for it to find me. My headline for this blog was “Discovering life and happiness one city at a time” Ha! I guess I will need to change that to “Creating happiness one day at a time.” If I have learned anything it’s that my day will be how I perceive it to be. I was holding myself back all these years. I blamed my mother for forcing me into nursing, but I am the one who let her. I never stood up for myself. I blamed her from keeping me from other career options, but I was the one who gave up on my dreams.
I have talked to so many counselors from different colleges of graphic design that I can’t count. But one changed my approach on everything. For the past month I have been planning to peruse my Bachelors in Arts. One man said, ” You know, you could go for your Masters in Arts with your Bachelors in Nursing. ” Do what!? I thought. I looked it up, and sure enough! Now I am teaching myself Graphic Design utilizing online courses from sites like Skillshare, Udemy, and YouTube with the goal of creating a great portfolio and applying to enroll in the master’s program.
I used a photo I snapped in Boston this year. How fleeting life is.
It’s freaking scary, guys! At least daily, I convince myself that I can’t do it. By the end of the day, I have convinced myself I can again. I cry when it gets hard, I push through, and then I smile when I have finally created something I love. Because that is the goal. To create something that gives me joy and can help spread that joy with the world.
Today I created my own happiness. I hope I helped share it with you.
Your turn.. Write your story.
a girl named brie 