If you would have asked me when I was little what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have answered with "fireman" or "barbie princess." As I got older, the answers would have changed to "architect" and "English professor" (what?), finally ending with "nurse." But "writer?" Never came out of my mouth.
If you had asked me at any point in my life, if I ever wanted to be a writer, I would have said no, never in a million years. I didn't enjoy it, I sucked at English comp, my short stories were a joke. Even if you would have asked me yesterday, do you ever want to be a writer? My answer would have still been no.
But what is blogging? Is it not a place where we come to share ourselves, our stories, with readers? Do we not sit at our computers every day and write? We may not be writing a novel, but we are telling a story. A story that is ours, that belongs only to ourselves, but we choose to share it with infinite amounts of people.
I never dreamed of being a writer, never aspired to be the person who needs to tell their story. Every day though, slowly and surely, I am becoming that person. I am becoming a writer. Will I ever be published? Probably not. Will I make millions? Doubt it. But I can come here, to my little slice of internet and share whatever my little heart desires with you.