When I was young I used to love to write small stories. Not for any real useful purpose but just because I liked it. I was able to write about anything I could imagine, like dragons fighting my MASK toys or UFO’s invading my town. I would just write these stories with pen on paper and I remember I thought it was wonderful. I would never share these stories with anyone, it was my own little world and I couldn’t care less, until one day my mom found one of them.

The story she found was a bit dark. It was about a lion cub called Bert that had become friends with a bunch of baby zebras and they used to secretly play this game called tikkertje (I don’t know the word in English but it basically revolves around a bunch of kids, and one person is ‘it’ and this person has to chase the other kids until he touches one of them and then this person becomes ‘it’). So the baby zebras and the baby lion are playing this game and at some point in the game Bert trips and hits his head on a rock and he breaks his tooth. His little mouth is full of blood and he’s crying because he is in pain. Naturally the baby zebras immediately go and check on their friend Bert to see if they can help him. But because we all know zebras can be a bit dumb at times they all rush in at once and during this time one of the baby zebras (I forgot her name, let’s go with Zara) gets Bert’s blood on her. At that exact moment Dino, Zara’s dad, comes over to see why all the baby zebras are hurdled together.

When Dino sees the situation he reads it completely wrong and goes berserk. He obviously assumed Bert attacked his daughter. Everybody is screaming at this point and the baby zebras are trying to explain what really happened but it’s too late. When Dino is done Bert is a lion pancake. The End.

Good luck explaining that one to your mom.

So from not being used to sharing anything I now found myself one story shared and one week grounded. I got punished for my story (with all the violence that is normal today I doubt it would happen today, but back then it must have been a big deal.), but I do know it put me off writing for a long time. It had a huge impact when the people you respect don’t like or put down the thing you love, especially when you are young.

I’m now 32 and at a time in my life were I am allot more confident. I got an amazing girl, a cool dog and work I actually enjoy every day. And ever since I discovered Steemit two days ago, I felt this urge to write. It’s hard to explain, it feels like I’m in love. I need to write. I got up at 7 on Saturday today just to write this story and I enjoyed every minute of it. I hope in the future many more people will rediscover their love for writing because of Steemit and just put their stories out there. Without fear, because it’s irrelevant, some will like your stories and some don’t. All that matters is that you have fun.

And even when no one will ever read this story I had a great morning with my dog next to me looking at me funny because I’m giggling writing about my own memories.

Mark

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