Realizing My Worth

Someone asked me the other day if I knew what I wanted to be yet. At first, I could feel my cheeks ablaze, because saying it out loud seemed absurd. I was ashamed to tell anyone what I truly wanted to be because I didn’t believe I could ever achieve it. I knew from the day I was a young child what I wanted, but I never assumed I could grasp it. So, when I graduated from high school and went to college to become a teacher. I wanted to show my future students that there was a way out of the world we are living in. I wanted to show them, we could write about everything we saw, and things we never wanted to tell anyone. When I started taking my education classes, I still felt out of place, like something was missing, and realized I was settling. I had played it safe, and I wasn’t happy. I wanted to be the one that people read. I wanted to be the one that was able to write anything and everything; people would be able to sense it and recognize it. I didn’t have faith that it could happen but little did I know that I would publish my first short story a few months later. However, I didn’t make a lot of money off of it, but I realized I was able to make money off of something I loved so much. I was now a real writer. I had put my writing into the world. People had paid money for them and had asked for more. I always wanted to write and be able to show the world how I saw it. How my feelings and life mattered and how theirs could too. So, I searched for the perfect words, for the perfect sentence, to make the perfect writing. I never let it fall short of what I expected of myself, and what others expected of me.