Real vs Fictional
I have been pressing my younger sister to blog about her life experiences since she has been living such a diverse and interesting life. I have the same intentions though my life is less diverse than hers. The recent thought about writing n sharing our life stories is how it will be perceived.
I was talking to few of my co-workers last night and started telling about some experiences of mine as a teenager in Pakistan. They looked amused. They kept asking questions which reassured me they are actively listening and want to know more.
I often try to listen to myself as I speak, my attempt in improving myself. The images of my memories kept playing in my head as I listened to myself talking about them while trying to stay present at the ICU nurse station and also listen to the monitor alarms of patients. Then I started to switch place with my friends/audience and listen to my stories. That's when I questioned the reality of my experiences. I started wondering if my experiences sound as real to them as they are to me. Whenever I share my memories, I make the utmost attempt to maintain their integrity and originality. But do my listeners feel the same way? Do they trust me to be real and honest in telling the accounts of my life? Do they believe that I actually lived those moments or do they dismiss my stories as an extension of my imagination?
After having lived in the U.S. myself, my own experiences of poverty, escaping persecution, struggling to make the most out of life, accepting the terms and conditions of the life that were handed down to us and more are starting to sound like fiction. At times, I can't believe I actually lived my own experiences and how far I made, how far our family made it. As proud as I am about how far we have come, I don't want to lose my roots and my past. That's the strongest reason behind wanting to write and share my experiences and stories. I want my daughter to know my past. My past is part of me and I am proud of it. But I ma still not sure how I feel about other's perception of me. Will they believe me? Will they accept my accounts as real?
I was talking to few of my co-workers last night and started telling about some experiences of mine as a teenager in Pakistan. They looked amused. They kept asking questions which reassured me they are actively listening and want to know more.
I often try to listen to myself as I speak, my attempt in improving myself. The images of my memories kept playing in my head as I listened to myself talking about them while trying to stay present at the ICU nurse station and also listen to the monitor alarms of patients. Then I started to switch place with my friends/audience and listen to my stories. That's when I questioned the reality of my experiences. I started wondering if my experiences sound as real to them as they are to me. Whenever I share my memories, I make the utmost attempt to maintain their integrity and originality. But do my listeners feel the same way? Do they trust me to be real and honest in telling the accounts of my life? Do they believe that I actually lived those moments or do they dismiss my stories as an extension of my imagination?
After having lived in the U.S. myself, my own experiences of poverty, escaping persecution, struggling to make the most out of life, accepting the terms and conditions of the life that were handed down to us and more are starting to sound like fiction. At times, I can't believe I actually lived my own experiences and how far I made, how far our family made it. As proud as I am about how far we have come, I don't want to lose my roots and my past. That's the strongest reason behind wanting to write and share my experiences and stories. I want my daughter to know my past. My past is part of me and I am proud of it. But I ma still not sure how I feel about other's perception of me. Will they believe me? Will they accept my accounts as real?
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