When I was young, there were situations in my life that were not happy. To escape a negative situation, I’d write about a positive one.
When I was being bullied and felt vulnerable and weak, I’d write about having a super power where I could be strong and take care of myself.
When I was scared, I’d write about being brave, facing my fears and standing up to the darkness.
When I was sad I’d write about being happy; riding unicorns over rainbows, making friends, exploring the universe in super fast space ships.
Writing was an escape from the terrible, mundane nuances of life. It made me strong, determined, curious and adventurous. It made me into who I am. It helped me work through problems. It counseled me when I needed it – having conversations with someone who could understand me the best and who could help work me through any situation – this is what developed my excellent conversation skills (albeit in writing only – but they are there).
Writing gave me friends when I was alone. It saved my life in more ways than you can imagine. It is a part of who I am – that is why I write.