OPEN LETTER
Writing Cost Me $35,000. Can You Help Me Get The Money Back?
I wrote as if no one will ever read my stories. I was wrong.
I made a mistake. I made several mistakes — but one of them cost me $35,000 (give or take). What did I do?
I wrote articles online.
Why?
Because I love writing. Ironically — what I’ve loved the most has cost me the most.
Let me give you a short background. Last year I discovered this amazing, online writing platform and I wrote stories on various trending topics just like Tim Denning or Dew Langrial do. I was secretly hoping to turn my life around like Shaunta Grimes and Shannon Ashley.
Damn, I even paid for her Ninja Writer Class!
“Dear Shaunta Grimes if by any chance you stumble upon this article, please know I didn’t stop going to Ninja classes because I didn’t like them, it was because I could just not afford them anymore…”
Now let’s get back to my story… I wrote articles on various trending topics such as mental health, addictions, relationships, life lessons and so on. Hoping that one of my articles will be picked up by the readers and I would finally hit that jackpot. I followed very stupid advice:
“Write as if your life depends on it, open up, spill your guts out, let the reader experience your agony — make them cry, laugh and drag them to hell with you. Don’t let them doubt your writing — you speak the truth.”
I invested in writing, especially since English is not my native language, the courses that I’ve taken cost me over $2000. I could care less about the money, I was on the path to “my financial freedom.”
The opposite happened: my freedom was jeopardized. I was accused of “endangering” my stepson.
Why?
Because of my online stories.
I’ve written stories where I depict myself as suffering from countless mental health conditions: OCD, bipolar disorder, anxiety, depression, agoraphobia, bulimia, anorexia, “spoiled brat syndrome”, anger intermittent disorder, ADHD, ASD, social phobia — I had it all. These stories were written in the first person, as editors suggested.
These stories became solid evidence that I am “dangerous”. It didn’t matter that I actually have a degree in Screenwriting, published books, “clean” medical records or that Shaunta Grimes Ninja Writers class encourages “vulnerable” writing. My online stories “proved” I was unstable.
Look — I had to be a little “crazy ”in order to get those 500 followers — no one wants to read about “stomach” problems. The world needs drama! Psychosis! Weapons!
Why did this happen to me?
It seems that for years I’ve had a little invisible enemy, who lurked in the shadows and worked against me. I was never friends with them, but due to unfortunate life circumstances, I had to “stay” in touch with this person. They always seemed polite to me, so it came as a great shock when I was accused of this nonsense.
But then again, I shouldn’t have been so surprised — everyone has a hater, even Tom Kuegler or Dr Mehmet Yildiz.
So what did I do?
I tried to confront this person — but the lies would not stop. Perhaps Maxwell Jordan would know why, since he writes so profoundly about narcissists.
You see, if you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed. And that’s how I ended up in court.
My relationship with my stepson was jeopardized because of these ludicrous accusations. I am a very proud stepmother that unconditionally loves him — I had to defend our relationship in court. So I waited…
But I’ve stopped writing, though. My love for this trend, “money making” online platform turned into hate — it only brought me despair and 500 followers. It brought me debt as I had to hire lawyers to help defend my case.
And my dear lawyers just ripped me off: pointless communications, extra charges, senseless statements. I was vulnerable and I had the money, so I keep paying and paying. Until one day, I’ve realized that all my savings were gone.
The same savings that I hoped to use take a one-year break from the corporate world and finish that book.
Worked out well, didn’t it?
I was angry, so I deleted my stories — but somehow, I could not find the will to delete my account. What if, perhaps, one day I return? There is no substitute for the “high” that I receive when I press that button “publish” and await claps and reads so why give this up? I was addicted to it.
Days, weeks and months went by — I was still awaiting the court hearing but my mind was broken. I’ve realized that if I am not writing, I am not living either.
So after 6 months of abstinence, I returned to this “cursed” online platform and started posting stories again. I didn’t enjoy it anymore though, see all of my stories were under certain censorship. I could have just changed my profile and write under a different name — but why change my own behavior because of someone’s lies?!
I was broken, but still a proud Serbian.
I wanted the world to know that these stories, were written by me, not some Peppa Pig_123! So writing suddenly became torturous, and I stopped again.
Finally, after a year I was called into court. I had a choice to make, either I stand by my written statements and don’t take the stand or I take the stand and protect my relationship with my stepchild, defend my stories and stand up for myself.
Somehow, the decision to go to court woke me up. As if along with the decision to go to court, another unconscious decision was made — to write again.
In court, I was questioned for two hours. I stood there and spoke about my stories, the motivation behind writing and the relationship with my stepchild. The prosecution kept on pressing unsuccessfully, they were impatient, frustrated, they wished to break me, but they could not — -I was broken 6 months ago.
I wasn’t protecting my writing or my relationship with my stepson anymore, I was there to stand up for myself.
There are a lot of miserable people out there.
They thrive on putting others down, they can’t help it, they are suffering from an invisible vicious disease. I’ve been put down a lot in the past for being different.
In fourth grade, I was hated for being the child of Yugoslavian nationals. The kids in my class called me various names, and I had no friends. There was a particular person, let’s call him “the little boy”, who just loved to pick on me. He called a “Muslim killer”…
One day I won a school marathon. “The little boy” came second. I have stored my bronze medal in the school locker and by the time my parents came to pick me up, my locker was vandalized and they stole my medal.
In high school, my favorite subject was the English language, even though it was foreign to me. I worked hard, had private tutors and attended after-school English courses. I did all of that to become better than other kids.
I always handled more assignments, wrote more essays, hoping to get the best grades. I never did. Why?
“A foreigner will never speak nor write better than a native speaker. That’s why.”
I applied three times to the prestigious film academy. To get accepted, one needs to undergo six rounds of interviews. Each time I qualified for the last round.
I had to receive a “yes” from all the professors. Somehow I never received a “yes” from an “old Lady”, who was once a very prominent cinematographer.
I confronted her in front of her colleagues. What is the reason that she is saying no to me for the third time? While smoking a cigarette, she responded:
“You are trouble. You don’t fit here. You’re too opinionated… and I don’t like you.”
It hurt. It did, and to be honest, still does.
Why did they let me undergo all the rounds? Why not eliminate me at the start? Why did the person lie about my stories and wished to eliminate me from my stepchild’s life? Why was I bullied? Why was I hated for trying so hard to learn English so hard? Why do certain people hate me for being myself?
That day in court when I was falsely accused of “endangering” my stepson I had to make a decision. I had to choose what I can or cannot live with.
I can’t be silent. I can’t live without my stepson. I can’t live without writing. I can’t live without speaking my mind. I can’t live without being my true self.
On that day in court, my true story was heard, and I was free to parent my stepson, free to write, and free to be myself.
On that day in court, I made my own judgement.
I quit my daytime job and decided to become a full-time writer. Perhaps the time isn’t right for this step as I have no savings, no backup plan, nothing. But I do have faith and I have people like Dr Mehmet Yildiz, Tim Denning, Tom Kuegler, Dew Langrial, Shaunta Grimes, Maxwell Jordan, Ryan Fan, Shannon Ashley that I can look up to and be inspired.
There is never the right time, there is only now. What matters to me is to do what is right by myself — not by somebody else.
In order to realize that I had to lose $35,000 to learn how to stand up for myself.
I have faith that by doing what I love I just might be able to get it back.
Thank you for reading.
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