That’s one zesty lemon you made there.

Below is a story I submitted to Man Repellers writing club. I didn’t get selected but I am still happy with what I wrote so I thought I would share it on here.


Dreamers are often said to be the people who get the least amount of things done, too far up in the clouds to pull their dreams in to reality. But as a dreamer with a strong desire to remain as optimistic as possible I like to believe that my crazy and wild dreams will one day make up my reality. Because being optimistic doesn’t mean that you can not imagine the possible things that could go wrong just that you choose to focus your energy towards all the amazing things that could go right.

When life handed me one truly shitty lemon I had to learn to overcome, I had to learn to not give up and work towards making that oh so delicious lemonade.  There is no nice way of saying it, Anxiety is a bitch. When you pair a dreamer with an anxious mind you can only imagine the conflict that erupts, the strongest desire to do something with your life but the constant voice in your head giving you speech after speech all ending in the concluding sentence of “honey you’re just not good enough”.  Anxiety is not an optimist, it is an  exaggerated survival skill telling you that the word vomit of nervousness you encountered while being forced to speak in class, resulted in a face the colour of a deliciously zesty tomato and was the exact moment of your demise. However, optimism will prevail taking the little ball of anxiousness that is myself and making the best of it. Whether I wore a risky outfit in the living room of my flat or out in public… I still wore it, Whether I emailed a lecturer instead of speaking to them directly … I still asked my question and whether I write for my own personal journal or a legit publication … I am still letting my words and my thoughts hit the paper.

Because what you truly need as a dreamer who has unfortunately been paired with anxiety is the optimism that you will push through. That the little voice in your head who condescendingly calls you honey for some unknown reason doesn’t have to triumph. Maybe I haven’t quite found the perfect formula to turn a shitty lemon into lemonade but I would like to believe with a little (somewhat forced) optimistic mind that I have taken a shitty lemon and grew it into a gloriously oh so zesty lemon.

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