Writing with Labored Breaths by Jamie

Writing with Labored Breaths by Jamie - February 2014 Scholarship Essay

William Wordsworth said, “Write with the breathings of your heart.” No words have effectively haunted me quite like these do every day. It is hard to truly understand the meaning or feel the passion in the phrase if you haven't held a pen in your hand with a head full of tears. Sometimes the only thing that we can do is to write when no one else will listen, and when no one else really cares. The struggles I have had in my life have left scars and bruises on my soul and my sanity, but Wordsworth speaks to me on a level that no one has attempted to journey.

I was a poor girl in a family dominated by women. The perception of our success was grim, so I wrote to express myself in a way that I knew no one could possible relate to. I first heard Wordsworth's quote when I was in high school, dealing with issues that made me an mean and unbearable winch. I was hard to be around: I was a hard daughter, a terrible friend, and a hopeless lover. I wanted to feel more than I thought I was capable of achieving, and my journal took the brunt of the beating. As Wordsworth guided me, I used my experiences to handle the loss of a friend, the abandonment of my father, and the loss of myself. I look back now and realize that my whole life, the good and the bad, can be found on yellowing journal pages and notebooks full of adolescent poetry.

Wordsworth's wise words played critical roles in two important instances that transformed my life. When I was in high school, guided by Wordsworth's wisdom, I wrote my father a 6-page letter about my feelings for him and the mistreatment my sisters and I faced at the hands of his girlfriend. I wrote it all down: sadness, resentment, hatred and love, but his reception was not warm. The letter was handed off to his girlfriend for her to read, and she made copies of it before delivering it around town to show people what an ungrateful daughter I was. I was mortified, and I was certain that I would never write another meaningful word again in my life. My father's girlfriend cornered me and slapped me across the face, calling me names that I can't bring myself to admit out loud. I felt betrayed by my father and my words. It took months before I realized the impact my words really had: they made me realize that a relationship with my father was not worth chasing. It wasn't my words that had betrayed me; they gave me the support I needed to overcome the experience and see my father as he really was, without the rose-colored hint of love blocking my view. The second time Wordsworth's words came to my rescue was when I was fired from one of the only jobs I had ever know. I had grown very unhappy with my job, but it was still a blow to the ego when I was told that the company would be going in a new direction without me. I felt like a loser and the scum of the earth. I cried for months, and the scenario still haunts me as I replay it over in my mind. No one wanted me. I came across a website that had Wordsworth's quote displayed across the top, and I knew that everything I needed to say could be said with the stroke of a pen. I journaled for days, digging my feelings out of the mud and hanging my soul out to dry. I hadn't felt so much peace in my life as I did when let it all out on the pages. After experiencing such decay, I decided that I would go back to school and do something for me: something that made me happy-- writing.