Every child has a dream of a better future, a better life, yet life has different plans for everyone.

As a child I never had big dreams like everyone else. I was just a little girl following the wind, when the sun set east that is where I would be headed to.

It never bothered me, or so I thought. I told myself that I did not have any right to dream. Dreams are only meant for model C student’s. Dreams belong to children who know how to solve problem X, students who will tell you about the human body structure, students who will give you an explanation of what is happening when there is a thunder storm. And here I was not belonging anywhere. Little did my mind know that I had the solution to my unseen future.

Days went by along with my age. The naive child with no dreams came to the realisation that going to a model C school and knowing how to solve problem X does not define the level of your intelligence or your future.

What does, is the pen that you always hold in your hand along with your notebook. What you choose to write on that notebook will define you in the future. Some will choose to write about calculations, others will write songs on those note books and there’s me. I choose to write my untold stories.

I used the same pen, the same note book, as everyone else. Yet to me, it played a huge role, the role of identifying my passion. The same passion that drives me over the edge. The same passion that turns dark days to sunny days. Putting my words on paper – that’s what defines me. Others are defined by the car they drive, the luxury they live in, but I am defined by what is inside my notebook.

That’s how I discovered my dream. My passion for writing is my way of sharing my thoughts, hoping that they will shed some light to someone. Just because I never knew how to solve problem X did not mean I was nothing – because I was something and I was worth it.

My words, my story, my passion.