Now that college decisions have been made and I am no longer in the process of applying to college, I wanted to start publishing my college essays.
I first wanted to post my personal statement essay primarily because this is probably one of my favorite pieces I’ve written. I had written it as a college essay assignment back in my AP Lang class, but since I was a sophomore at the time, it really didn’t come in handy until much later, and I didn’t feel the need to work on it too much. Surprisingly, though, it became the starting point for my final personal statement, and I’ve really liked how it’s been shaped over time to reflect who I am. Here’s Writing: A Moment to Live.
The rapid click of keys starts to slow; the spark of thought flickers out. A beat of silence; a quiet exhale of relief passes by. I click the blue button and watch as the words dance across the screen, finally putting an end to the marathon of ideas in my head.
“Your post is now live.”
The image burns into the back of my mind. A signal that hours of writing, editing, and reflection have taken shape—and now, they belong to the world. It’s a familiar routine, yet it brings a thrill of excitement each time, reminding me that words don’t tell stories… They start them.
Writing has always been a constant throughout my life, beginning as a simple task to keep an ecstatic child at bay. Given a new app and shown how to hit publish, seven-year-old-me was instructed to write something—anything. At first, it was just random sentences about some fascinating event or flashy new toy. Over time, those three-sentence posts evolved into paragraphs, then essays with tones of color, and eventually into lengthy pages upon pages of discovery. Slowly, what first felt like a chore—an obstacle that stood between my playtime and I— soon became a prominent aspect of my life.
Entering middle school, serious issues— law, geopolitics, history, and so on—took hold of me like a spark catching fire, spreading faster than I could contain it. It interested me how specific actions and words could change the fate of the world for literal centuries to come. Unfortunately, many other twelve-year-olds didn’t seem to agree, often turning away when I brought it up or feigning interest in the subject to satisfy me in the moment. While others rolled their eyes at my ramblings, I sat at my desk furiously typing, keying down every thought into permanence. No interruptions. No forced smiles. Just the words on screen and thoughts in my head. Every post began a different conversation with myself. Be it the implications of European conflicts, my opinions about the up-and-coming band I was starting to enjoy, or even my perspective on the ensuing teenage drama. Writing began to give me a way to breathe—a way to freely express myself and pour out everything in my head without hesitation. Eventually, it became a decade’s worth of records of ideas and growth captured through an ordinary blogging site. Together, the brief research papers, vantages on ongoing wars, and poll-based posts, became my own personal archive of growth and beliefs.
Writing evolved from a regular weekly activity to a lifeline. The idea of being able to take something, mull it over, and regurgitate it out into a fluid sequence of words was exhilarating. I found myself greedily consuming more news articles, research papers, discoveries, and evolutionary concepts that were spreading like wildfire to recapture the feeling. Ready to share my passion with the world, I applied to both an op-ed column in our local newspaper and a global news network. Although unsuccessful, I kept posting, practicing different ways to share my thoughts and understanding. I took on an internship at a law firm, where simple case analysis assignments were praised and reviewed by the firm for sharing with clients—a simple task that has now given me the responsibility of writing reports providing an overview of the important legal documents needed for cases.
Over time, writing no longer became a way to reflect, but instead to push myself forward. It was an exploration—a dive into discovering what I believed in, who I was, and where I stood. More than that, it was a way of documenting how my voice evolved—experimental and unwavering, and yet still growing. The blue publish button has become more than just an end—it’s an invitation to countless possibilities yet to happen.
