Ep.1 The Start Of The Story That's Supposed To Have A Happy Ending

Let me tell you a story – a story of sadness, happiness, and the twists in between.

Let me tell you my story.

The Crossroad.

There are moments in life when you long for something more, for something big to shift your course towards excitement. There are moments you wish for a sense of adventure to make you feel something, to make you feel like your life has a purpose. I’ve always called these the ‘film moments’, when you dream of becoming the main character. And in all the movies, this is exactly what it takes – a sudden shift, an unforeseen conflict that leads to a climax that leads to resolution and inevitably to transformation. But in our quest for becoming the main character, we forget to separate fiction from fact. The vision in our mind mirrors the fantasy, we begin to believe the only solution to a grand life is the occurrence of a life-altering plot.

And one day I became that character. My life became that story. But it wasn’t a happy movie, there was no joyful montage and no heroic rescue. And it wasn’t a movie at all. It was my life, and it was hanging on the edge.

Now it’s time to rewrite the story.

For the past 5 years, I’ve felt trapped in an endless cycle of hospital visits, flashing ambulance rides, surgeries, medical appointments, scans, and specialist clinics. Surrounded by tubes and needles and loud machines. Seen by a never-ending stream of doctors and specialists, surgeons, patients, clinicians, and nurses. I’ve been misdiagnosed, misbelieved, knocked down, built up, saved, and rescued. There have been unending days of solitude trapped in an echo chamber of my own thoughts. And just as many days drowning in the contrast of chaos, monitored by the second and surrounded by hundreds of changing faces, needles, and a constant beeping. I’ve been cut into, stitched up, reconstructed, and revived. I’ve been scared to die. And I’ve been scared to live. Scared to face limitations, permanent setbacks, and a quality of life I wasn’t sure I could live with. But I’ve also overcome mountains, defied doubts, and proven that the impossible can happen. It’s been a long 5 years, and I am only just starting to see the light. A light that didn’t find its way in for a very long time.

It is because of this that I’ve found myself standing at a crossroads, looking toward a future I once couldn’t see. A future I sometimes still can’t see, but one I know lies somewhere on the horizon, waiting for me. It’s because of this, I don’t have anything to lose. I’ve lost so much of my life to the past few years — a loss I’m still grieving from. And for a long time, I haven’t felt like I was really a part of this world. I’ve become a stranger to so many parts of myself, a reflection I don’t recognise in the mirror. It’s hard to remember who I was before my story began.

But here I am. Still standing, recognisable or not, and I can’t help but simmer with excitement at the possibilities of where I might go, who I might become, and how the world might feel while I’m rising back to the top. But the climb in front of me is tall. I have a long journey ahead, navigating a new reality while I stitch up the wounds that have left scars and held me back for far too long. And while I’m putting the pieces of myself back together again, I can’t help but feel this calling. A pull towards challenging myself through the tool that has always been my most reliable anchor. To test the waters of life again and to start to find my feet after so many days spent wandering lost and out of place. To do this through sharing a part of me with this world, my words, my musings on life, and the storm it carries us through.

The truth is that I’ve built walls of armour around myself to survive the last 5 years. And because of this, I find myself terrified of vulnerability, of letting anything inside that might cause my foundations to crumble. But the walls keep everything in, too. And I’m ready to unlock the cage that’s been holding my voice. I want to share my story with the world and help others that might find themselves on a journey similar to mine. I have a vision of the projects I want to create and the places I want to go. Creating films and content through visual exploration that shines a light in the darkness. I have books waiting to pour out and immersive content I can’t wait to explore. But the ocean of fear takes time to battle and these visions lie in the heart of my vulnerability. This is the start of my fight. And until I’m ready to be vulnerable and completely set free the wild within my veins, I want to start peeling back the layers through writing. While I’m waging the wars that have festered in my mind, I’m tearing down my foundations, brick by brick, word by word. Until one day my heart is open to the world again.

This space is my canvas for that — and project [r] is a starting capsule as I write my way back into this world. While I dream of creating visual content that creates a spark in the world, this feels like the next best thing. One day I’ll find the fire again that leads down that path, or maybe the trail ends up somewhere else. But for now, this feels like my place to start, wherever the road leads.

The Start of The Happy Ending

My story is still unfinished, sitting at the crossroad waiting to be written. I feel like we’re made to believe that there will always be a happy ending in the story. That setbacks are nothing but catalysts for some heroic journey you’ll inevitably land in during your fall. That you’re supposed to naturally find yourself afterwards, in a sort of magical gateway for growth and rediscovery. And I do believe it is always a catalyst in some way. But for me, after landing here yet again, somewhere just short of that happy ending, this part isn’t coming naturally. It’s a gruelling fight to claw back to the top. I’m in that in-between where all I feel is lost and a little broken, trying to navigate a world that has changed so much in the time I’ve been gone. I’m waiting for the pieces to fall back together again, to understand why it all happened. But sometimes it’s hard to find a reason when you feel like you’re still sinking. I’m hoping I’ll find my reason here. My strength to live again, when for so long living felt like the hardest thing to do. They never tell you how to do that — how to learn to live again when you weren’t able to for so long.

I spent a long time trying to do just that. Trying to live in a body that didn’t want to hold on. It left me with a lot of fear — fear that consumes my mind and drowns my life. And it’s the biggest shadow in my reflection, a contrast that blurs the line of who I used to be. I used to feel wild. I used to feel like I could live on top of the world. I’d close my eyes and see a spot saved for me, high above the mountains, a slice of home in the skies where I could see the whole world. I spent a lot of time here, seeing everything with wide eyes and a racing heart. I used to feel like I could face it all. I would fearlessly seek out adventure and never hesitate, not even to take a breath. And now the smallest things in my life feel like mountains I have to climb. Things I would never have blinked at before have become towers of fear. I know one day I will see that it all changed for the better. That I’ll find my place in the skies again. But right now all I see is that it changed me. Not just the bad parts, but the good parts of me too. And I’m trying to rebuild them. To rebuild myself. And to navigate a world where I’ve been sitting on the sidelines for half a decade. That’s a lot of adjustment to do. And I’m scrambling to find my feet. But this is where I’ll take my first step — the first step towards freedom and claiming back my life. This is the start of the happy ending.

While I re-write my story I’ll be here bringing this project to life and writing to spread hope. To share what changes my life, the tools I discover along the way, the highs and lows, truth and testimony. To be a voice. To begin to heal the darkness in my life, and through that, hoping to shine a light in yours.

Let’s see if it’s really true. Let’s see if you really can change yourself, conquer your fears, and rewrite the story. Let’s see if you really can get to the happy ending.

Like with any story, I don’t know where this journey will lead. I’m writing the pages as I go, watching my life come to life in each chapter. The book is my life, and the ending will always be unknown. But wherever it may go, I know that the adventure is calling. I hope you enjoy the ride alongside me.

Until the next one,

m.a