Everyone needs at least one hobby to get them through the day. To bring them closer with the people that share the same interest. Some people play sports, or video games. Some people sing, or make videos. Some people exercise, or do yoga. As for me, I write.

Writing has always been an outlet for me. I even won a Young Authors award in the 3^rdgrade for some short story we were assigned. My parents were always reading to me as a child and I think that made me excel in English classes in school. And growing up, I kept a diary/ journal and still do today. I think I have 14 altogether, starting from when I was about 9 until now (at 20 years old). Embarrassingly enough, when I was younger, I used to title each entry “Dear Diary” and then gush about whoever was my elementary-school-crush that week. One of my friends (going on 12 years now) had moved to a new town back in the day, and cell phones were just starting to come out so we didn’t really have them yet. So, we would write letters to each other. Old-fashioned snail mail. It definitely wasn’t the norm for 13 year olds, but it worked for us for as long as we remembered to write back.

Also when I was younger, I had this on-again/ off-again fear that someone would kill my parents in front of me (looking back, this probably stemmed from me watching Daredevil late at night at about 9 years old). I later found out that children afraid of their parent’s death typically develop, if they do not already have, anxiety (which I do). So, I would write about that. I’d write that I was scared, why, and question what I would do if this did happen. As I got older, I started writing about the boys I was infatuated with and how they’d ask me to be their girlfriend or ask me to prom. Basically, any embarrassing thought I had I wrote down instead of telling my friends.

In high school, I’d complain about my parents or teachers or whoever was pissing me off. I would also write the anxious and depressing thoughts I was having towards the middle/ end of my high school career. Whenever I was feeling suicidal or was having an anxiety attack, I’d write it all down. I had this idea that I wouldn’t survive my depression, and whoever would find my journals would make a book out of them. Since I thankfully did make it through, I continue to add to my journal today to document my success story.

My absolute dream job in the whole world is to be a writer. To live in a loft and have a huge bookshelf and waitress part time and just write. But, over the years, I’ve found the career path that I think is right for me. But I will always write, even if it is "on the side.”

Writing relaxes me. It concentrates my thoughts so I cannot become overwhelmed with what is in my head. It motivates me to try new things, so I can come home and write about it. It exercises my creativity, because I have to think of which words accurately describe my thoughts in a more “flowy” style. Writing gives me satisfaction. It inspires me. It is a part of me now, and I wouldn’t trade this passion for anything.