I continued on in high school taking
health occupations classes and even doing clinicals. My heart wasn't in
it, though. Away from prying eyes and judgmental attitudes, I would
write at home. English was my favorite class. I would spend hours writing
stories. I had tasted the joy of creating something of my very own, and no one
could take that away from me. My mom knew my heart. She didn't pressure me to
do anything, but I know that she prayed for me and she listened. I'm so
thankful I had someone to believe in me and my dream!
Countless friends and teachers in high
school said I needed to be a teacher, because I am good at explaining things to
people. I smiled and said, "That's not the career for me." I
said this to each person who suggested it. I got tired of hearing it, to be
honest with you. Inside I screamed, "Can anyone see that I want to be a
writer?" I didn't know it at the time, but I was taking a stand for what I
believed in and not letting other voices talk me out of what God called me to
do.
In the midst of my battle with my heart
and my head, my mom told my brother and me, "Do whatever you love to do.
Don't let anyone pressure you to do otherwise."
When it came time to register for college
classes, I was automatically drawn to the communication major because of the
writing aspect. Somewhere along the way, I decided that my mom was right. Even
if I never made an enormous salary from writing, I was going to do it because I
LOVED it. Seriously, I have a page full of ideas on my computer of things to
write about. I have dreams about characters and stories. No amount of money can
compare to true fulfillment!
And now? I’m entering my senior year in
college, working on many projects for Gateway publications and writing about
current events for my internship with Athena Magazine for Girls. What if I had
listened to my middle school teacher? I would be miserable! I want to encourage
each of you to not let your dream die!
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