I’m not interested in your labels – your education, major, job title, place of origin. Not your perfectly curated LinkedIn profile and Instagram photos.
What I want to know is your story. Like the day you gave up on your dream school because your parents could not afford it. How you once told someone you loved them and they laughed it all off. The night your father died. Or the day you left home and how your mother stood standing at the gate till you turned ’round a corner and slipped away.
I want to hear about your passion. I want to see the way your face lights up when you talk about something, or someone you love. I want to see joy on your face. I want to see pain on your face. I want to hear excitement in your voice. The way words spill out in a rush, fighting to be heart.
Tell me your goals, your dreams. What wakes you up in the morning geared to take on the world. What keeps you up all night. Ever so willingly and you’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Tell me your past, present and future. Tell me your life, as how you see it. Tell me your life, as what you are working towards.
Narrate me your story with all its lows and soaring highs. Create your novel and define your synopsis.
“She’s the girl who’s trying to figure out how to use her art to communicate with the world.”
What’s your story?