Chapter 1: Confronting the Past

Recently, I found myself watching a documentary about Pamela Anderson on Netflix. Honestly, it wasn’t my first choice or even my second. While I don’t have any issues with her being a well-endowed blonde, I’ve never been a fan. I skipped the entire Baywatch phenomenon and avoided the media frenzy surrounding her infamous tape with Tommy Lee, simply because I found him unappealing.

The documentary itself isn’t groundbreaking or filled with shocking revelations, but it does showcase a raw vulnerability. You can see the weight of life’s experiences etched on her face, and her voice trembles as she reads excerpts from her extensive collection of journals, accumulated over many years.

What intrigued me most was her dedication to journaling. In one poignant moment, she is surrounded by plastic bins brimming with notebooks that date back to her childhood. I find it fascinating when someone shares how they have chronicled their lives through writing—childhood aspirations captured in clumsy pencil strokes, teenage angst expressed in ink, and the gradual enlightenment that comes with adulthood.

I recall a girl from my middle school days who took photographs of everything—not in the curated, filtered style we see today, but with a wild enthusiasm for capturing the moment. Somewhere, there exists a snapshot of my 19-year-old self, laughing uncontrollably as coffee spills from my nose, along with countless other candid moments where everything and nothing was happening at once.

In contrast, my own collection of notebooks remains largely untouched. They were bought with the intention of capturing my innermost thoughts and secret longings, a space to transcribe my observations and document significant life moments. Yet, the lined pages lie in wait for fragments of my mind and soul.

The truth is, I’ve always been too apprehensive to expose myself in that manner.

I can still vividly recall the gut-wrenching humiliation of having my diary stolen at age eleven, my private thoughts weaponized against me. I remember the look of bewilderment on my sister's face as my mother read aloud at the dinner table the feelings of resentment and anger I had penned.

When I tried to reclaim my diary, I was told it was her house, and I had no right to privacy as just a child. I faced severe repercussions for being labeled “ungrateful” and “selfish,” and for years, my childhood drama resurfaced at the most inconvenient times. My mother seemed to believe that writing down my thoughts had somehow solidified them as permanent traits—traits she deemed undesirable.

Self-preservation can take on many forms. For me, it meant ceasing to document anything meaningful.

I became adept at memorization and honed the skill of visualization. I have vivid images imprinted in my mind of moments I’ve committed to memory. What I would have written in my diary transformed into emotional keepsakes instead. The significant parts of my life are etched in my soul rather than on paper.

I also developed a reluctance toward creating lists, outlines, or rough drafts. I seldom take notes, even when necessary, and, unfortunately, I rarely jot down recipes while cooking.

I’m an aspiring writer who fears putting anything in writing. Isn’t that ironic?

However, there’s a silver lining—I am actively working on this.

Lately, I’ve focused on healing from my childhood trauma. In the past, I recognized my disdain for keeping written records, but I’ve only recently begun to delve into the roots of this peculiar trait that hinders me from pursuing my passion—writing.

The memory of my mother laughing at my pain and mocking my private words left an indelible mark on my identity, no matter how much I wish to erase it. Now at 40, I often think I should have moved past the difficulties I faced as a child, but I’m learning that without acknowledgment, acceptance, and ultimately, release, the persistent roadblocks preventing me from fully embracing and expressing my authentic self will continue to emerge.

By writing about these experiences and acknowledging the wrongness of her actions, I am gradually overcoming that barrier.

By vocalizing these feelings and recognizing that past behaviors that once protected me may not serve me now, I am reclaiming my strength.

With each breath, I’m leaning into vulnerability and sharing this narrative, bringing me one step closer to becoming the person I aspire to be.

The first video, "Overcoming the Most Common YouTube Roadblocks," offers insights on navigating challenges that many creators face. It highlights strategies to overcome obstacles and keep moving forward.

The second video, "ROADBLOCKS: My Formula For Creating Success in Life No Matter What" by William B. Henry at TEDxBillings, presents a roadmap for achieving success despite life's challenges, emphasizing resilience and determination.