The rate at which I realised there were certain things that really didn’t make me happy was a lot higher than the fulfilment of my own happiness. I couldn’t stop listening to what I saw on television and I didn’t want to stop reading about celebrities and the wonderful things they had or how Sam from primary school had a dance scholarship when my dancing career had peaked in a dodgy Spanish restaurant.I write because on this page I create the world I want, I don’t have to worry about my freedom being questioned or my clothing being judged. There is no greater satisfaction to my mind than the written word, whether it is by my own hand or by an author I respect. Finding just a portion of something that makes you whole, practicing that until it becomes second nature and knowing it is reliable to your needs, makes the path to happiness a whole lot more riveting.
Dear Sofie
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