Why am I here?
I grew up with five older siblings, each one seemingly more successful than the next. Student-body president, captain of the soccer team, valedictorian from Princeton, art prodigy, science whiz… then there was me. Not particularly great at anything, perpetually stuck in mediocrity. Always the best of the worst, or the worst of the best. I was simply, average . Books quickly became my refuge in elementary school. Hidden behind their pages, I could immerse myself into far off worlds where reality couldn’t reach me. My love of stories transcended onto paper, where I created my own heroic adventures with characters that I cherished, writing till my fingers were raw and my face was covered in lead. “You are an incredibly talented storyteller,” my teacher informed me in the seventh grade. Unbeknownst to her, this innocent compliment sparked a decade’s long self-worth battle as a self-proclaimed ‘writer’. Suddenly, writing wasn’t about telling stories anymore– it became a fig...