I always considered myself a writer even before I began sharing my gift to the public. Even before my mom got on abroad and started cheering me on. Even befofe, I walked through the doors of my college's paralegal office enrolling into a program I was the least excited about, all for the approval and praise I felt l needed from my family, egging me on to pursue a path where jobs were ludcrative & stable, and the pay would somehow erase the feelings of life-long regret I'd have suppressing my God-given talent, writing. It was two semesters shy of my graduation, that I made me the affirmative decision to change my degree yet again and & enroll into a degree that aligned with what I was truly passionate about, Communication Arts & I've never looked back, although I can't sit here and not act like I haven't cried with the rise of blogging, and social media personalities, making it harder for someone like me to make a name for myself. Even with that fear, I cannot stay stagnanted and let it paralyze it. As I hope you won't either. Yesterdday was my mother's 50th birthday and one thing that hit me was how time waits for no one. Similar to what she said to me yesterday, time moves so fast that you can find yourself looking back and realize that you were in the same place that you were 5, 10 years ago,without any progress towards the fulfillment of ykur dreams. How scary would that be to wake up in the hospital & realize that as you lay on the bed all tied up to the machines dictating the last few moments of your life, that you never accomplished the one thing you sought out to do? How would that make you feel? I don't know about you, but I'd cry & ask God for a miracle, promising that if I survived, I'd go home with the doctor's blessings, and the very next day would pick up a pen and start working like I have never before!
My draftby @shahael | 347 words | 🐣 | 1💌
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