It’s an escape, it’s a journey and it’s a doorway into the next realm of my adult life. It’s serious, yet creative and allows enough scope for a wide range of emotions; from dark humour through to deeply moving pieces. I can honestly say that I feel like a better version of myself when I get into the flow of writing, usually at about two or three in the morning I can really get my teeth sunk into the next post or piece.
When my Granddad died earlier this year I was able to write my eulogy to him, to discuss neurodegenerative diseases and how it had affected me. When I finally received my diagnosis as a type two coeliac after five years of medical turmoil, I was able to relish in the fact that I finally had my answers, and I was able to educate my friends on what it now meant for me; I actually received several private messages asking about further symptoms and asking for help and advise on the next step. When I was really pent up and frustrated about how crappily some charming members of the public treat fast-food workers (on minimum wage may I add) I was able to vent and laugh at myself about it.
But most of all, journalism to me is a career goal. Try to mix shorter and longer sentences to help vary the pace. It means doing something I love and I’m passionate about – being able to come into a workplace positively every day and enjoy what I do. Not just being sat behind a stuffy desk, in a dingy room in a temping office waiting to be ferried off to a company with a missing receptionist.