Here is An UNSCRIPTD Journey written by Marquita Amoah:
The same year my father left me on a New York City curb in front of a police station, was the same year I discovered writing.
I was six years old.
A few minutes earlier, my mother stood in the station, as a few officers and my father, pleaded with her to make me stop. She looked at them. Her silence loudened me. I continued to scream and kick as my father picked me up and struggled with me to his car. My small body, with all its might, cried louder than ever before. As he opened the car and placed me inside, I used my tiny fists to bang on the window. He disappeared for a few minutes as I caught my breath, ready to scream again once he entered the car. Instead, he came back to my side and opened the door, motioning for me to exit. I lowered my feet to the ground, unsure of what was going to happen next. Across the street, my mother stood alone, observing us. My father bent down, said a few words to me, kissed me on the cheek, and then got in his car.
I returned to my mother’s arms, content. Shortly thereafter, the visitation drop offs in front of the police station stopped. How easily he gave up on me. However, on a weekend I was supposed to be with him, I picked up a book of poetry, The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. I wrote my first two poems after reading it and began my love affair with writing.
That would happen to me a lot in life, moments in which I lost something significant, I would simultaneously gain something tremendous. Life ebbs and flows. At six years old, I lost the chance of ever having a good relationship with my father, but I gained the discovery of writing. A discovery that would get me published at fifteen years old and lead to me currently creating my own content, https://www.wordsarethings.org, a website I launched in June.
At thirteen, I spoke with clarity in front of a judge as to why I knew my father didn’t really want me, despite the fact that we were back in court seven years later. I lost my innocence, but I realized the power my voice held. At sixteen, my aunt passed away and I watched as the people around me crumbled. I learned how people navigated loss and how to be strong. I saw that people are intrinsically human: flawed and complex. I forgave my father.
At twenty-one, shortly after receiving a job offer and graduating college, I suffered a personal loss that was harder than anything I encountered. A time that was supposed to be filled with joy, was filled with me brokenly navigating my world. People could see I was hurt, but I tried so hard to hide it. Eventually, I learned how to be weak, how to forgive, and unconditionally love others and myself. If you want to read more about that time in my life, read this: https://www.wordsarethings.org/home/2017/5/23/the-authenticity-of-pain.
I have come to realize that I share an intimate relationship with hardship and tragedy. Instead of asking why me, which is very tempting, I know that everything I have gone through makes me the unique woman I am. Because, despite knowing tragedy and hardship well, I also know happiness, friendship, and love. I know success and will continue to know success in my life. I could go on and tell you about all my plans and accomplishments, but truth is, that’s not what drives me, that’s not the point of my story.
So what is your point?
That’s probably your next question, because isn’t the point of this to share my journey and the good I have done? Yes it is, but something I have learned on my journey is that it’s more than just the material things. It’s more than the apartment, the money, or the clothes. It’s more than being published. Those things are important, and I strive for those things, but it’s about how you make people feel. The way you impact people. See, when you are alone at night, no material thing, no amount of money, or likes on a photo can complete you. Sure, they feel nice in the moment, but cold and shiny things are not meant to warm you. They don’t help you grow. It’s about empowering each other, being true to yourself, standing up for yourself, and making people feel important.
When I share my story in any facet, what drives me is when people reach out to me and tell me they were touched. Or tell me they related to it, or that it made them think about life differently. People make your journey important and worthwhile. The way people influence and affect you is what makes you the person you are. I wouldn’t be who I am, without other people telling me my voice matters. The only reason I even strive for material things is because I want to make people feel good. Make my mother proud of the sacrifices she made. Give her the life she wants and my future children the privileges I didn’t have. However, at the end of the day, it’s about how you affect people.
That’s my point. Every time I write it’s to make people feel whatever they need to in that moment. It’s to do what writing does for me. Heal. I write to heal you and me. I’m myself so that you can feel safe to be yourself as well. You don’t know what your story can do for someone else. Wherever you are at this moment, whether you are reading this at your fancy job, or reading this in between searching for jobs, your journey is important. It will inspire others because it’s the truth and no one else can tell it like you can. That’s how I live. I’m aware that my journey will have tons of twists and turns, and many highs and lows. But, no one is better suited for it than me. I hope you know the same is true for you.
No one can live your journey, but you.
This is my UNSCRIPTD Journey,