An immature, ignorant, and socially inexperienced brat... that was me on January 31st, 2012.


Have I held a serious tone so far? Caught your interest? Because now I'm changing the mood.

Yes, the story of how I ended up on DeviantArt is actually very amusing. For as long as I can remember, I've always been a writer at heart. It's no surprise, then, that I love reading: or that I stumbled across Fanfiction. Yeah, I read some M rated material and corrupted my mind at a very young age. A certain fanfiction caught my eye and I wanted to read it badly. However, this story was not posted on fanfiction. You guessed it: the story was posted here.

I'm very pleased to know that DeviantArt has a mature content filter, but it just so happened that the filter was the reason why I joined this site. My desire to read the damn story caused me to sign up and BOOM! Here I am.

It didn't take long for me to see what other features DeviantArt had. I was fascinated by all of the creativity and work of fellow deviants, so I felt compelled to follow in their footsteps. I didn't want to be an outcast on the internet as I was away from the screen!

Perhaps it was because of the way I was made, but I've always had a balance between creativity and logic. They are my primary tools, or gifts, for life and I love using them. So, from the moment I posted my very first deviation I knew I was addicted. What's more, I had encouragement from fellow deviants. Now that's a boost in self-confidence, which, at the time, I had very little.

It made me happy to see people like my work, and inspired me to continue to work harder and harder. I was dazzled by the art, poems, stories, and crafts that people made! Before I knew it, 2012 grew into 2013.

The social part of DeviantArt taught me a lot. Not only was I doing better on the site but in school, as well. I began to move away from my comfort zone and reach out to people. I felt better about who I was and, despite my ongoing personal problems, happier than I had been. I continued to gain support, improve in my work, make new friends, and learn more about the friends I already had. But I still had a lot to learn.

Although I was becoming happy, the source of my happiness wasn't (as I now consider it) healthy.

Sure, I was inspired and worked harder; sure, I loved positive feedback and seeing my deviation get another favorite... but I was still a people-pleaser. I didn't work or laugh to help myself, I did it because I wanted others to work or laugh! I was still searching for something, but I wasn't sure what. My main ambition was popularity. I was envious.

I was jealous that other people were getting attention and I wasn't. I wasn't satisfied with a 'good job' when I saw others get 'I love this so much, it's very inspiring!' I was jealous that somebody with art that I considered lower than mine was more loved than I. I wanted to be the person that everybody looked up to and respected. I wanted to be the person mentioned in a conversation whenever something amazing was brought up. I was selfish and ignorant and I didn't realize it.

What's more, whenever I got a comment such as 'Why can't I draw like this? You're so good!' or 'I love this so much!' I would take it for granted and give advice when I didn't know what I was saying. My envy grew until I read a journal entry that stalled my jealousy. The entry spoke of how art should be a passion and not an excuse for attention. I lingered with the thought but it ended up escaping me when my personal problems only grew. Yet, days later, I saw another journal with the same message. Again and again I saw these entries, and finally I realized my fault and its effects... and I started on my journey to fix them.