My love for film started when I was a child, long before I ever understood what filmmaking even was. Growing up, we had movie nights every Friday. It was a whole ritual, the popcorn, VHS rentals, the excitement of picking something new at Blockbuster.
My parents worked a lot and I never got to spend much time with them except for Friday nights. I’d memorize scenes, act them out, and basically live inside whatever world I had just watched.
But It wasn’t just entertainment for me, it was my escape. I was alone quite often so movies kept me company, gave me comfort, and whole worlds to disappear into.
I never really considered it a real career path until later on in life, mostly because the only filmmakers I ever saw were old, white, and male. There was no one who looked like me, no one who carried my background or my experiences, so the idea didn’t even exist in my mind as something I could do.
As a child, I always wanted to be a teacher, a figure ice skater, or maybe even an actress. But never an actual filmmaker that actually made films. The boss leader on set. I couldn’t imagine it really. I was always the shy timid girl who spoke softly and lacked self-confidence.
It wasn’t until senior year of high school that kind of changed that for me. I saved up for my first camera and started filming everything from my friends, the hallways at school, random moments outside after school.
I basically made a little documentary of my classmates, friends and me during those last weeks before graduation. It felt like a softer, less chaotic version of Kids, still messy, real, and alive.
And I realized how much I loved being behind the camera, capturing people and their lives in a way that felt meaningful to me.
But as the oldest daughter, My mother had different plans for me. I was raised with a lot of pressure to “be something respectable” at least by my mother’s standards. I had to have a profession. My mother wanted me to become a doctor or a nurse.
She didn’t support the idea of me pursuing a degree in the arts. Ironically, my second oldest sister had been acting forever, and my mom encouraged her artistic path. But for me? She wanted the safe, professional route.
We fought about it constantly and it drove a wedge between us for a very long time.
So after graduation, I decided to major in psychology, human behavior is a subject I genuinely found fascinating because of trauma and because I’ve always been the quiet observer type. But two years in, I realized my heart wasn’t in it at all. It wans’t something I was truly and really passionate about. I dropped out and this made my mother even more upset.
Around 21, I started writing scripts. I don’t even remember what triggered it, probably an incredible TV show or a film that left me so inspired. More than just a movie watcher, I was someone who paid attention to everything most people overlooked: the score, the face expressions, the lighting, the cinematography, the editing.
I thought all of it was sooo cool. I didn’t just want to watch movies. I wanted to make them, but I didn’t know how hard it would be for me to turn that into reality.
A few years later, I saved up and finally enrolled in film school and honestly, it was the best time of my life. Being surrounded by other creative people that appreciated the same things you do when it comes to film, learning the craft, shaping my style… it felt like home.
The film production classes were so exciting for me, and working with old-school film cameras felt unbelievably cool. Our teacher didn’t want us using modern digital cameras because he believed the only way to truly understand filmmaking was to start with the basics and to feel the weight of the camera, load the film by hand, and learn the craft the way the greats did.
He always said that digital makes you lazy, but film makes you think. And honestly, he was so right. Shooting on real film made every shot intentional, every decision meaningful, and it taught me discipline in a way no digital setup ever could.
I loved the editing classes the most. I couldn’t wait to go every week. My teacher even told me I was one of the best editors he’d seen so far and that he couldn’t wait to see what I’d accomplish in the future.
I still remember creating a short film with some of my classmates outside of editing class and my edit ended up being the best in my film production class, no lie. It was one of the first times I felt genuinely proud of myself. I cried tears of joy when I got home.
Writing was trickier for me; I was used to journaling and I usually wrote my stories in novel-style writing, not screen writing style which is more visual driven. Coming up with shorter scripts in class, quickly, on the spot was like mental gymnastics for me.
Meanwhile, I had a classmate who sat behind me who was completely effortless at it. I’ll admit, I was a little jealous of him because I wanted to excel at all three: writing, editing, and directing. I wanted to be good at all three in order to feel like I was good enough to be a filmmaker and move forward.
I’ve had performance anxiety for as long as I can remember. I didn’t grow up with confidence, and even though I mostly excelled in film school for years, I dropped out in the middle of senior year out of extreme fear.
It really broke my heart. Instead of crossing the finish line when I was almost there, I sabotaged everything for myself. I’m actually crying as I write this because I really felt like a failure then. Performance anxiety, fear and perfectionism really kept me from finishing something I loved so deeply.
After that, I went back to working regular jobs and pushed my dreams aside. I also entered a toxic, abusive relationship that dragged me deeper into depression. I was living in California at this time, the birthplace of American Film, but I wasn’t in a good place.
I was vulnerable, lost, and just trying to survive. I didn’t give up completely, I kept writing whenever I could, but I was tired because I was working.
I always thought about going back to finish my senior year of film school once I was back in Florida, but life kept moving and it never happened. I had bills to pay and younger sisters to help take care of. I couldn’t possibly think about that.
Surprisingly, I converted to Islam years later. No one saw this coming, not even myself. I got married shortly after, gained 3 bonus children, had my daughter, and stepped into a completely different chapter.
This all happened very fast, but motherhood softened me, grounded me, and changed my lens on life entirely. I truly love being a mother. It’s a very hard job, but a very rewarding and beautiful one.
I still love film just as much, but not in the same way I did when I was younger with no responsibilities, no pressure, no weight on my shoulders. These days, I’m a stay-at-home mom working in the wellness industry which I really love.
I still write here and there as a hobby and I really enjoy blogging. I’ve been blogging for a really long time and sometimes think about entering the novel-writing world. Attempting to finish a novel actually feels less anxiety-inducing and less pressure than becoming a filmmaker and running a set where you’re leading actors and making big decisions.
I wasn’t confident or strong enough back then and I’m at peace with that now.
Everything happens for a reason. Some dreams prepare you for other paths. Film wasn’t written for me as a profession, but the love I have for storytelling has never left. It just found a new home.
Honestly, Vanessa 