I was never the kid who was good at everything they tried. I hated running the mile, I couldn’t draw (no matter how hard I tried), and making friends was the scariest thing ever. I always thought my strengths were only in academics, and my creativity was limited to daydreaming. However, at the tender age of 8, I discovered my love for writing, and I haven’t looked back since. I’ve always had trouble voicing my thoughts, as my brain seemed to move faster than my mouth. I could never catch up with my thoughts. Even if my words blended out loud, on paper, they were clear as can be. However, when I started writing everything down, suddenly my brain made sense and my creativity was unlocked.
I began writing pages and pages of short stories that have allowed me to express every dream, fear, and hope in words. I would write about my saddest moments in my very first secret journal, and the best parts of my life in my daily homeroom reflections. As I grew older, my short stories turned into novels, emotional moments turned into poetry, and my reflections turned into college essays. These books, notes app journals, and manuscripts are all just for me, and that’s something about writing I think is so beautiful.
Ultimately, as I reflected on my 18 years of living before high school graduation, all the words I’ve ever wanted to say were written in my Common App personal essay, something I consider one of my greatest triumphs. I never knew my love for words could take me places, specifically 275 miles from home, all the way to The University of Michigan. Coming into college, I was immediately drawn to Her Campus, as I found such a love for putting my advice and feelings into words and helping others along the way. If I could give anything back to my community, I knew it would be through my writing. So here I am, still in love with the art of writing at almost 20 years old. I write to say anything and everything for my friends, family, and random teenage girls on the internet to read, hoping that someone out there might feel just a little less alone.