It was probably when I gained a love for reading that I began to grow my penchant for writing. As a child getting into books for the first time, I started to realize the power of words, expression, and communication. Perhaps this isn’t the way I would have described it then, but I believe I saw text on a page less as just words (meant to confound me and all other children, no doubt) and more as simple representations of something that was more. Words were a representation of not only the ideas of author who wrote them, but also of the reader who read them. Words, simply just ink on paper or pixels on a screen, conveyed thoughts, feelings, senses, and more. I believe it was with that knowledge that I began to realize the value of language, creativity, expression, and sharing stories. With that realization came the desire to write.

Perhaps when I was as young as eight years old, I knew I wanted to be a writer. This desire stayed with me throughout my whole life (on and off) up until now. And while I’m sure young me didn’t exactly have blogging in mind (think epic sprawling novels instead), I think she’d be happy to know I’m giving any writing a go. So, why a blog? Why bother? Well, to put it short, I need an outlet and I love attention. An outlet, goes without saying, lets me get all my thoughts out. It lets me be creative and it lets me ramble. But if that outlet were in, say, a diary… well there would be no one to share with. I value the connectedness that comes from sharing my writing with others. Above all though, a blog gives me a space to be seen and known. I get the satisfaction of knowing that I’ve been acknowledged, my writing has reached another person.