Why I Write

     At the age of 7, I found a passion for literature that I had been raised to value. My mother new the benefits of opening the door to a positive outlet for a young woman that was destined to go through Hell and high water. Writing gave me a voice. Writing opened my eyes to a world I thought only existed for famuos authors with high-paying publishers. Through the years, I saw the ugly in the world alongside the beauty and I wrote about both. Through middle school, I was discovering myself. Learning about the things I liked and the music I loved and the people I wanted to be friends with. Writing got me through those hard times that I felt as thought not a single soul could hear me crying out for relief. Not a single soul, except those caught between the lines of the paper I marred with ink and pencil and tears. Not a single soul, except the swirling ends of the letters as a scrawled them across the page. As high school neared, I found myself lost and alone, far away from my family, and feeling abandoned. I gave up on my writing and turned to razor blades. Around my sophomore year, I re-discovered my writing after leaving an abusive ex. Writing allowed me to confide all the secrets of the horror I endured, while maintaining the anonymousity that I needed to cope with my past. I put down the razorblades and picked up my pen. I realized how quickly writing changed my life, shaped who I've become, and mended the open wounds that came from having a broken past. Writing has saved my life more times than any human; literature has shown me that my future can only be as bright as the way I write it for myself. I consider every day like a well-versed poem. I wake in the morning, stretching with the sun's rays as they shine over the Earth. I ready myself for the day as a bird readies her nest for the eggs she is destined to lay. I plant the seeds of success through my words and actions, just as the bird with her eggs. I nurture and protect each ideation for my future as a new mother robin. As the days go on, and my successes hatch, one tender chick at a time, I assess the strength of each to determine which ones can fly. At the end of their incubation, I send my successes out to fly as a mama bird expelling her chicks from their nest, hoping and praying each will prove to be worth every ounce of care I put into it. Writing has opened my mind to new possibilities. Now, I find myself an English major as a freshman in college.