THE YEAR THAT CHANGED MY LIFE (still pondering if for the best or for the worst)

It was 2002: exactly fifteen years ago.

It's the second post in a row where I mention numbers: as you can see, I am obsessed with them. I want to make it clear once for all and to the whole world: I really have big issues with maths. I love numbers that occur in life because I am sure they have kind of a hidden meaning (I'm still looking for it) but I can barely count stuff.
I'm honest: I have a problem. If you ask me to count objects, like for example those I have in the shopping basket when I go to the supermarket, I can see them kind of moving and mixing one each other.

I think it depends on the fact that having developed my creative brain, I left some maths synapses starving to death. Because of that, I suppose that soon I'll need an abacus to count change in my wallet (that usually is quite empty, so it won't be a big deal).

Fine.

Let's go back to 1996: end of school. I was 18 and not sure about what to study then at uni: I didn't want to waste my time or my parents' money, so I went for a job.

A few years later, in 2002, I was 25, working in a Information Technology firm as Manager Director's assistant. I landed in that work environment five years before where I got in as receptionist. Thanks to my skills, to my can-do attitude and to a hint of luck, my job role changed quite quickly.
Exactly the way I like. I say it again: quickly!

I was travelling, increasing my professional skills, facing new experiences and I had a very, very, very good salary (by the way, the last one is something I haven't experienced again since becoming a creative professional).

In 2001 I attended a graphic design evening class: at this very moment I cannot remember exactly the reason why I went for that. But I remember very well that things went very wrong for two reasons: first, I loved what I learnt and I kept on practicing it as soon as I could (during working hours as well of course). Second, I can still see in my memory, like a picture, the enthusiastic look of my teacher staring at my homeworks and saying: "Wow. This is just amazing. You are a GRAPHIC DESIGNER indeed!"
He was a pain in the ass and he used to rant on students works: that's why his statement stroke me that much. 

I spent the next few months after the end of that graphic design evening class listening to something that was softly awakening inbetween the deepest creases of my flesh: like a big yellow snake emerging from hybenation. It knows when to wake up. I call this process "gestation". It's like a feeling first, and then over due time, it gets a proper shape and turns into a decision that the most of the times messes up my life.

Meanwhile, at work, for the first time in life I started experiencing The Cage Syndrome: I wasn't asked for new assignments from a while. Job wasn't fast paced anymore and I was doing same old stuff since months: I asked my boss about career advancements and new tasks. He said: "Oh, you cannot go any further: this is the top you can get in this firm. Sorry about that."
I stopped breathing: to me and to my soul this sounded like a life sentence.

A voice was in my head, saying: "Now or never".

It took me a little: I had to listen to that brand new feeling and to ponder the decision. I started thinking about possible dangers: there were plenty, but I was blind and moved on by my soul, and so I didn't see any of them. You know, it's like having children: if you are aware of what you are going to get through, you step back.

So, I think that at 25 I took one of the most brave decisions of my life: I left a permanent-very-well-paid-full-time-job to enroll to university.
There are two words that perfectly describe this attitude: foolish behaviour. [Hell, yeah, that's me! Nice to meet you!]
Can you imagine the earthquake? I still can feel the shaking: fifteen years later.

I gave resignation from work in September 2002.
One month later I was sitting again at a school desk, facing the biggest fear of my life: not to meet expectations. Not to be good enough. Not to get good marks. Not to be creative.
Fear has always been my travel buddy: we are very close friends. Sometimes we make love as well.
I was wrong again: my marks were the highest ever, my mind revealed as one of the most creative, I won several contests over three academic years and I graduated with honors. I couldn't ask for more. And only today I can see all of the beauty in this.

I think that  there are some turning points in life: my teacher saying that statement has been one of them. Sometimes I have the feeling that persons are messengers.
Has that sentence been a blessing or a curse? I don't know actually.
I just know that when that memory rises in my mind I smile, despite the harshness of my path.

By the way: in 2002 I met two guys who utterly teared off the thick skin which covered my heart.
I had a heart and I didn't even know: amazing, uh? I'm human, after all.
I bet you want to know more about it: I will tell.

Speak to you soon.

XXX
MAdd ❤