Autobiography of Plamen Vasilev Plamen Vasilev   © Copyright 2024 by Plamen Vasilev

Wheat field, Bulgaria.  Image by Zhivko Dimitrov from Pixabay

Growing up among rolling hills and rustic charm, I always felt an intrinsic desire to transcend the boundaries of my village and weave my aspirations into the fabric of the world. However, dreams have a way of battling reality, and my journey was irrevocably altered when I was just 15. That was the year I lost my father, a man of quiet strength whose laughter echoed through our modest home. His passing left a void not only in our hearts but also thrust the weight of responsibility squarely onto my shoulders. Along with my younger sister, I found that our only anchor in this turbulent sea was our mother, whose unwavering love helped us navigate the harsh tides of life in a country often marred by poverty and corruption.

The echoes of that fateful day still reverberate in the corners of my mind. I remember the sun was setting, casting a golden hue across our small living room, where laughter usually danced freely. But that evening, the air was thick with an urgency I couldn’t quite comprehend. My father, my rock, sat opposite me, his face pale, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. When he finally broke the silence, it felt as if the ground beneath me shifted. “Plamen,” he said, voice trembling, “life can change in an instant.” Just days later, he was gone. The world around me spun wildly, a kaleidoscope of confusion and grief. I was thrust into adulthood overnight, bereft of the guiding hand that had once steadied me. I have lost my father. I was only 15, my sister-only 13. Even to this day, when I remembe all that happened in 2003, my eyes became teary because I still just cannot overcome the sadness and the enormous paing of losing one of my parents.

Suddenly, I found myself bearing responsibilities far beyond my years. I had to step into shoes too big for me, filling the void he left behind not just for myself, but for my mother, who seemed to fade with each passing day. I took on chores, schoolwork, and the scars of heartache, navigating a treacherous path laden with questions I didn’t know how to ask. Why him? Why us? The answers eluded me, just as my childhood slipped away, a cruel thief in the night. I learned to mask my emotions, crafting a façade of strength while the void inside me grew. I wondered if I would ever laugh again, if I could bring joy back into our home, or if it would forever echo with the silence of loss. In those long, lonely nights, the boy I had been faded into memory, replaced by a young man forged in the fires of sorrow and responsibility, each day a battle against the darkness threatening to swallow me whole.

Life in Bulgaria is laden with barriers, particularly for those of us rooted in smaller communities where opportunities are scarce. The air is thick with the scent of hardship, and dreams can sometimes feel like distant stars—brilliant yet unreachable. Yet, in the midst of these struggles, I discovered solace in the written word. Writing became my refuge, my escape from a world that often felt overwhelming. I crafted tales that took flight and poems that blossomed like spring flowers, capturing my hopes and fears in a tapestry of ink.

Despite the challenges that surrounded me, I began sharing my work with the world, and through perseverance, I had the joy of seeing my stories and poems published in American magazines. This small glimmer of recognition lit the path I longed to follow: to be a successful writer, to have my voice heard beyond the borders of my village, my country, and even my continent.

With each piece I wrote, I envisioned a future where my words might inspire others, bridging the gap between cultures and ordinary lives. My aspirations became a driving force, a promise to my father and my sister that I would forge a better life for us. I spent countless nights hunched over my notebooks, scribbling dreams fueled by the stories I wanted to tell. I drew inspiration from the rich history of Bulgaria, the tales of its resilient people, and the complexities of life that unfolded around me. But more than anything, I sought to encapsulate the universal struggle for belonging and understanding, themes that resonated deeply within me and, I hoped, with others.

Navigating the path of a budding writer in one of the poorest and most corrupt nations in Europe is fraught with obstacles. There were days when I doubted myself, when the allure of comfort and stability overshadowed my ambitions. Yet, it was during these moments of uncertainty that I would look into the eyes of my younger sister, filled with innocence and dreams of her own. Her belief in me sparked a formidable resolve, igniting a fire that pushed me to continue pursuing my passion. I knew that if I succeeded, I could create a foundation for her—a life enriched by possibilities rather than limited by circumstances.

Today, my journey continues, shaped by the struggles of my past, the love of my family, and the unwavering belief in a brighter tomorrow. While I have tasted the sweetness of some modest achievements, I understand that the road ahead remains long and winding. I strive to amplify my voice, to advocate for those who feel voiceless, and to transform my dreams into a living reality. I am Plamen Vasilev, a young man chasing the horizon of my aspirations, fueled by hope and the stories yet to be written. One day, I dream of sharing my stories with the world, proving that even from the humblest of beginnings, dreams can indeed take flight.