If my parents were asked what their daughter is like, they would definitely answer with, “She is a quiet and shy child who loves to read.”

I devoured everything that have letters on it. Even reading newspaper where many words are difficult to a young girl. I began to think that I want to write. I didn’t know there are many jobs that require writing skills, so I only had the vaguest idea: I WANTED TO BE A WRITER.

I still remember the day I got praise for my writing. I was in my 5th grade, and we were asked to rewrite an article in our own way. I was so happy that I finally had a chance to write something, and finished it quicker than anyone else in the class. The teacher then said my piece was the best, and I was so happy and also embarassed over the loud claps from my classmates. The young me began to dream further after that historical day, and I resolved that I would be a best-seller author someday.

But, a young girl’s dream clashed with the harsh reality. The society had its own standard and the young girl’s wishes did not fit it. So she resigned herself and strove to work hard to graduate well.

The dream, however, still stays in the back of her mind.

The young girl doesn’t know yet, that writing will help her to keep on moving forward. That her writing is LOVED by many people, even if it’s only in the form of fanfiction. That she would find a peaceful place just for herself when she writes.

The girl doesn't know yet, that she will feel lost over years of writer's block, and then finally get to try again writing small things, just for her enjoyment, and receive praises and encouragement after 2 years of nothing.

But the present me knows, and have told myself to set aside some hours to write. Writing has kept me alive, and so the simple me wants to cling on it to make myself happy.