Reflective Essay: The Person I Am As A Writer

1386 Words 6 Pages
The person I am today is a product of my travels, writing, and reading. Today, I pride myself on the human being I have become. There is no one word to describe who I am because I am made of many different attributes and experiences. However, the qualities I value most highly in myself, all stem from the same places. My perseverance, eloquence, ambition, wonder, and thoughtfulness all come from the same three life-changing experiences. My travels, writing, and reading have shaped me into the very person I am becoming every second of the day.

Ever since I was a child I can remember my family traveling. We moved every three years and traveled every chance we got. It was a privilege that I did not appreciate till more recently, to view the world
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Poetry is the most useful thing we have invented as it is the purest way of examining life and the human condition. Writing was an epiphany in itself, and the day the thought entered my head of becoming a writer was the day that my world changed. Writing is arcane, and I believe I am one of the few who can truly understand life through writing itself. Only writers will understand the need to perfect, sharpen; to coalesce life down into crystalline structures. I do not believe that my passion for writing is a singular, God-given gift. It developed ever since I was a child. When I was little, I was always creative and hands-on. I dedicated my time to making my own creations, drawing, and writing and illustrating little booklets. Writing was always enjoyable to me, it was a beautiful fantasy. I have always adored creating imperfect perfection out of my words, and it is perhaps the reason that fairy tales have had a certain allure to me. However, it was not until 3rd grade that inspiration suddenly struck me. Suddenly, I was writing over napkins, notebooks, and scraps of paper. It was an obsession, and when I finished my first story I typed it up. With that, I had a product of the effort, love, and time I had put into my first true story. Ever since then writing has consumed me. It is, all at once, a love, passion, obsession, and deep fervor. Writing soothes me because it detaches me from the stresses I might face and transports me into an alternate realm that I may sculpt. All my thoughts and ideas are reflections of my travels. My travels themselves reflect on my writing. It is a cycle that continues to grow. The more I see the more I write. At the same time, writing is painful and it is from there that my persistence stems from. As much joy as I receive from having my writing honored, it causes me great anguish to see my writing fall short of my expectations. That is why I

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