I can’t think of the exact moment that I decided I wanted to be a writer, but I suspect that it was some time between the ages of 10 and 13. My first experience with journalism took place when I signed up for a newspaper class in 7th grade. I was a shy, timid student who was intimidated by my classmates at times. I kept mostly to myself and a few friends in my social circle, but more or less didn’t fit in. Unfortunately, the time I spent producing the newspaper was cut short when I was forced to switch schools in the middle of the year. I was upset and confused, and wondered to myself how this public school kid was ever going to make friends or succeed in the new private school I was going to be attending.

My new school didn’t offer me an outlet for my writing, so I had to create my own. I spent hours holed up in my room writing poetry in journals only appropriate for a 12-year-old girl. I’d read them out loud to myself and searched for poetry contests to enter while listening to Sarah Mclaughlan. What a 12-year-old was doing listening to music appropriate for Felicity in her college endeavors, I have no idea, but it helped me think.

After finding a contest I liked, I managed to print out my poem, typed in fancy cursive font and sent  it off. A couple months later, I received a letter in the mail that my poem was slated to be published in an anthology. You can’t imagine what that did to a 12-year-old me. Actually, you might be able to. I was ecstatic to say the least. I must have danced all around the house at least a couple times.

I still  have the anthology saved, although the poem is a bit embarrassing to ever reprint anywhere (trust me on this).

I guess you could say that was the first time I was “published.” It felt like I was high. The idea of being published brings with it such euphoria that I can’t even describe. That’s probably when I knew I didn’t want an M.D after my name, or a business degree under my belt. That’s when I knew that there wasn’t anything else I wanted to do in the world but write. So here I am.