For the Girl Who Dreamed: Writing the Story I’ve Always Wanted to Tell

 For as long as I can remember, I’ve been dreaming about writing a fantasy book. It’s the kind of dream that lingered quietly in the background of my life, like a soft melody I could hear but never quite sang out loud. When I was younger, I gave it a shot on Wattpad. I shared a few stories, and to my surprise, some people read them. But even with that small encouragement, I was too shy to truly put myself out there. My stories always felt so personal, like they were pieces of me that I wasn’t ready to share with the world. It’s strange, isn’t it? How something you love so deeply can also scare you so much?

Over the past few months, though, something has shifted within me. Maybe it’s the culmination of years of self-reflection or the weight of the events I’ve experienced recently, but I’ve found a spark of courage I didn’t know I had. I’ve started writing again. Not just daydreaming about it or imagining it, but actually sitting down and putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, in this case). I’ve been jotting down ideas in my notes app, scribbling fragments of dialogue, outlining scenes, and crafting characters who feel as real to me as the people in my life. It’s messy and chaotic, but there’s an odd kind of beauty in the chaos. Every word I write feels like a tiny victory, a step closer to bringing this long-held dream to life.

What changed? Life did. The past few years have been a whirlwind of emotions—grief, joy, love, heartbreak, and everything in between. Each moment has shaped me in ways I never expected. One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that time is fleeting. It’s far too short to spend it holding back, to let fear dictate your choices or let dreams gather dust in the corners of your mind. Writing this book has become more than just a creative endeavor for me; it’s a way of reclaiming my time, of honoring the things that truly matter to me. It’s about stepping into who I am and what I want, unapologetically.

When I think about why I’ve hesitated for so long, it’s not just about fear of failure. It’s about vulnerability. Writing feels like opening up a window to your soul and inviting the world to take a look inside. What if people don’t like what they see? What if they judge me, criticize me, or worse, dismiss me entirely? These thoughts have haunted me for years, keeping me in a place of inaction. But as I’ve grown older and experienced more, I’ve come to realize that the only opinion that truly matters is my own. At the end of the day, I’d rather be someone who tried and failed than someone who never tried at all.

The process of writing has been transformative in ways I didn’t expect. It’s not just about creating a story; it’s about creating a part of myself. Writing allows me to channel my emotions—the pain, the joy, the hope, and the heartache—into something tangible. It’s a way of processing everything I’ve been through and turning it into something beautiful. Some days, it’s incredibly difficult. The words don’t come, or the ones that do feel clumsy and inadequate. But other days, it feels like magic, like the world I’ve been dreaming of is finally spilling out onto the page. Those moments make it all worth it.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my younger self lately. The girl who dreamed of crafting worlds and weaving tales but didn’t believe in herself enough to try. I wish I could go back and tell her that it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to stumble and fall and not have all the answers. What matters is that you start. And here I am now, starting—for her, for me, for the person I hope to become.

This journey has also made me reflect on the bigger picture. Why do we dream? Why do we long to create, to express, to leave something behind? I think it’s because, deep down, we all want to be remembered. We want to know that our existence meant something, that our voice was heard, even if only by a handful of people. Writing this book is my way of carving out a small corner of the universe and saying, “I was here. I mattered.”

If you’ve ever dreamed of doing something—whether it’s writing, painting, traveling, or anything else—I hope this post inspires you to take the first step. Life is too short to keep waiting for the “right time” because the truth is, the right time doesn’t exist. The only time we have is now. Whatever it is you’ve been holding back on, I encourage you to start it. Do it for yourself, for the joy it brings, for the person it will help you become. The journey will surprise you in ways you can’t even imagine.

And as for me, I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep pouring my heart into every word, every character, every scene until the world I’ve been dreaming of is finally complete. It might take months, but that’s okay. The best stories take time. And I’m willing to give this dream all the time it needs.

With courage,

Me