When I was about ten years old, I started to imagine myself as a witch in the Harry Potter world. So, I wrote down everything that happened as a witch and how super involved I was in the stories and how I was Sirius Black's long-lost daughter and one of Harry's last living relatives. (Please don't judge.) I started to fill notebooks I declared that I was a writer and one day, just one day I will be next J.k. Rowling.

After the Harry Potter Fanfiction phrase, I started writing my own fiction stories and had the J.k. Rowling dream in the back of my mind. But then I was introduced to poetry. For poetry, I started using Greek and Roman Myths as my muse and thought I should combine riddles and poetry and myths stories, and I realized how much I enjoyed writing. I would be writing around three in the morning and probably in my classes. I became Ambi, the poet.

Fun fact: In the eighth grade I wanted to join the school's newspaper. I thought, "Hey I'm a good writer, I should put into the use" I had this idea for the paper about a creative writing column, so writers and poets like me had a space to share their work, but no took it seriously, and I was asked not to be apart of the staff. (Your loss, Rocky Hill)

But I didn't give up.

I kept writing, and by my sophomore year of high school, I decided to one of the bravest things ever. I decided to perform my poetry at an open mic at school. I remember that whole day I was terrified and kept revising my work making sure it was perfect. (Thank you to everyone that came that day: Yaz, Kayla, Ry, and Marco. Your support means everything) So, I went up on stage and read my poem, and for a moment the room burst into snaps. The audience loved it, and that's when I fell in love with open mics. So, the following year and the next, I joined the small Clarksburg High School's creative writing class and loved every moment of it.

I am so proud to identify myself as a writer.

Then came college. Now I was so unsure of myself, freshman year of college to the point where I stopped writing and started to look at the world in a black and white way. I began to think that my dreams of becoming an author were stupid and I should look for something real. The flame of my writing passion grew smaller and smaller. At the end of my freshman year of I took a hard look at myself and felt that something was missing. There was no spark in my eyes or a bounce in steps and a smile on my face. I needed to be that ten-year-old girl that loved to write.

Sophomore year of college, I did the second bravest thing ever. I changed my major to journalism and told myself I would walk across that stage as a multi-platform journalism major no matter how long it takes me I will do it.

On March 10^th I stumbled upon an article written by UMD's Her Campus media publication. The article talked about the UMD writer's house, and it's live and learn program. So, I googled the UMD Writer's House and knew I had to apply. That was the third bravest thing I ever did. This program was the "match" I needed to ignite my writing passion. I knew that if I applied, that ten-year-old girl inside of me that just loved to write would be thrilled.