How I Learned To Draw

Before I started drawing sketches, I had a pretty miserable life and no friends to speak of. I would sit in my room alone and rarely speak to my parents or anyone in school. Each day of school just felt boring, there really was nothing that interested me at all. One of my teachers saw how I never did anything but just sit alone by myself and asked me to go with her, so I did just to humor her request. She asked me: "Have you ever tried expressing your emotions through art? It can be very helpful and uplifting." I thought she was joking, why would art be any help to me?

So I replied to her, "No, I don't think it would help me at all..." she thought I was being too negative and had me try drawing something I liked, the first thing that came to mind was MLP. Mind you I was not that good at drawings, but she never judged me for it, instead she helped me get better at it. We became kind of like friends as she taught me to take my time and not rush it(two things I was bad at). To my surprise, I felt better after finishing the drawings. Every day I'd come back after school and she'd continue to tutor me on other techniques and styles. I found that the MLP Style fits better for the ponies I drew up, nothing else worked when I tried it.

The first pony I drew was Fluttershy, as I had more in common with her than anypony else. My teacher seemed impressed with how I could focus and not be distracted when I was into it and showed me a trick to doing some shading for the light on her face. It worked but seemed more suitable for a charcoal drawing than a pencil. I'm not too good at doing it with a pencil anyway, so I just left it black and white.

Now comes the time I almost gave it up:

I was on my 12th-grade semester and everyone was doing the usual, going to classes and going about their day. I meanwhile kept to myself and my drawings, my teacher said she couldn't teach me anything more, so I had to learn new things on my own. But not everyone appreciated what I was drawing up and bullied me, many things were said that hurt such as "Drawing? What a lame talent!", "What a loser!", and "So uncool".

I hated everyone, I felt they should see my pain and experience it for themselves. But I couldn't do anything, I had become like a doormat to them, anyone could walk over me without any consequence. One of my most trusted friends let the whole school in on my love for the show and alienated me from it. I tore up every single drawing I did and felt so much animosity towards them. When school was over, I decided enough was enough and confronted my so called friend outside.

I asked him, "Why would you do that to me? I thought you were my friend!" but he just stood there and not one word came out. As you may not have known, I had no real control of my emotions and smacked him one to his face, breaking his nose in the process. I hated him but said this, "You can go crawl under a rock for all I care, I never want to see your face again." and I left him there, holding his nose. I didn't really care if I got expelled, he deserved it.

About five years later I felt so alone again, I never wanted to trust anyone after what happened to me at school. I thought back to those days when I was happy drawing, and those pictures I drew of Fluttershy and the others I tore up. I just didn't want to see myself give it up and went back to it again, those pencils my teacher gave to me... Now was a good a time as any to use them and continued doing what I did best, my sketches.

I found a quote which matched how I felt and used it as motivation to keep going:

"In spite of everything I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I have forsaken in my great discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing."

Since then I haven't stopped, I have more than 34 drawings in my folder in my drawer in case anyone wishes to see them, I'm not ashamed anymore about them; I'm quite happy that I had such a great and understanding teacher to help me through it all.