It's hard to believe that it's been just over one month since I left behind everything I knew and moved to Kentucky. It feels like so much longer. So much has been packed into those 30 days. The life I knew then and the life I know now are worlds apart. In one month, I have been to Georgia, Ohio, West Virginia and Virginia. I have eaten Indian, Thai, Korean and Japanese food. I have been to one of the largest grocery stores in the country, stayed at a beautiful historic hotel, had my vehicle stranded at the bottom of a hill and had to hike two miles out of a national forest, explored dilapidated coal mine towns, hiked beautiful trails, experienced the soul-searing pain of losing my mother, and moved into a new home. I have felt excitement, joy, fear, anxiety, gratitude, depression, and guilt. I feel guilt, because while I am sitting on a very nice, comfortable couch in a warm, cozy house on a beautiful mountain-side, I feel anxious. I should feel immense gratitude, and deep down I do - but the anxiety likes to take over. While on a walk today, I told my husband how ironic it is that this is exactly what we wanted -- to live in a quaint little home on the side of a mountain, tucked back in the peaceful wilderness. Now I have exactly that, and I do not feel happiness. While I was in therapy this past year, my therapist and I discovered that my anxiety is rooted in fear - the fear of losing control. This past month, I have had very little control over my life. I have more or less been at the mercy of those taking care of us, and I thank God that they were incredibly kind, gracious, generous people. I don't know where we would be without them. I also know that I wouldn't have made it through this past month without my husband, who is more familiar with this area and way of life. In the grand scheme of things, we have been incredibly fortunate. We have had a comfortable place to live and sleep, good food in our bellies, clothes on our backs, a working vehicle, and enough money to get by. In the grand scheme of things, the world will not end if I can't pay my credit card bills. This move has been a lesson in what to be grateful for, and what in this life is absolutely necessary. I have learned to really appreciate quiet time, hiking boots, healthy food, good razors, and temperature control. I have also learned what true charity is, and the kind of person I want to be. Somewhere along the course of my life, I was taught that the most important thing in this world and the primary indicator of my character was how I handled money. I was also (unfortunately) taught that receiving help from people was a double-edged sword; I could accept the gift, but I had better make sure I used it in a way they would approve, and pay them back in a timely manner. This past year, and especially this past month, has taught me otherwise. This area is poor. Very poor. And this area is also full of the nicest people you will ever meet. People who instantly make you feel comfortable, people who don't judge, people who will tell you their life story and then invite you over for dinner before you've had a chance to say anything about yourself, and they always end the conversation with "If you need anything, you just let me know." Every...single...time. The truth is, I have everything I've ever wanted. I am living in a colorful, quaint house on a beautiful mountainside that could easily be a coveted air bnb. I am surrounded by mountains and streams and infinite beauty and have hiking trails literally right outside my back door. I am married to a wonderful man and have a happy marriage. In one week, I will be reunited with my two adorable kittens. I even have a well-paying job that includes writing, which I love to do. I have everything I have dreamed about for so long...I just have to get my brain to accept that it is okay to be happy.

My heart used to pound at the thought of seeing them, my face would burn bright red and I would quickly lose my train of thought, I had ideas trapped in my head with no way to release them into the world, no way to bring them to life and let them control me. I wasn't quite sure if I have the right to feel or keep these thoughts in my frozen brain, everyone is looking at me waiting for my words to be told, I wasn't sure if they are ready to hear them but positive whispers get close to my ears telling me how unique my topic is, and even if my words hurt the truth must always be accepted by everyone. I was hoping to inspire my peers and take advantage of every second in every moment because we need every inch in life. I'm walking to the podium on the stage in the big room, my hands fluttering the papers clenched tightly between my fists, my voice shook and the words start coming out silently, slowly, and then perfectly. People actually care to know what I had to say except the haters"THE GROUP". The Group was there my heart starts to pull up, their eyes were directed to me and the speech was made for them, yes today is the day no more fear anymore. My memories start coming to my head, as they were recorded scene after another, how they used to bully other students, how they loved the idea of being the best RICH group in High school, a group where their requests considered as orders, no rejection no detention no restriction, We were stuck in their Crystal Maze. I started seeing and feeling the scene when I was studying so hard to get good grades, while the glitterati was having parties and leisure without bothering themselves to study anything because they are already in a straight A+ team no judgment no inquiry and no objection. And the saddest scene was when I was checking their Instagram and see how they were squandering money and traveling wherever they want with a huge amount of delicious food. I literally cried when I have seen this, especially when I have been tagged with an embarrassing naming. #Here's How Money BUYS You Happiness (WEIRDO NERD). looked in the sky and with an immersed tears I said: "Why money goes to this kind of people, isn't money made for those who need it, aren't we suppose to use it in an appropriate way, am I wrong as usual, I'm not saying give it to me God, I just wish that poor people get what they really deserve. I have never complained about anything God, I have always accepted all my struggles, problems, and the idea of not having parents or this amazing life, why them not someone else?" Yes, my speech was a bunch of harsh memories but the good thing is that I get used to it, because I'm finally graduating and I have learned a lot of beautiful lessons. The only thing I regret is the way I talked to God about stupid things, that I thought it is going to bring me happiness. I started giving my last words, suddenly something has sparked my interest, it was actually a girl who was crying during my speech, I realized that she was a reflection of my feelings and my thoughts that I was too afraid to say too blind to notice that world is listening and too deaf to hear my own voice. I wanted to end this speech but after seeing her I knew that she was a victim of self-esteem problems because of some stupid people; so I decided to go for some additional spiritual words that were not in my speech. I wanted to remind them all, that we can shake mountains with our minds by sharing our ideas to change the world into a better place where everyone is equal. because I believe that every individual has a valuable opinion but it takes Drive and Confidence to express it. These were my last words in High school where I finally had the chance to express and release what had always made me sad and uncomfortable. After one year, 2020 had knocked our doors, I finally went to college, at the beginning we all thought that it is going to be another perfect year full of success and happiness where we will see same people traveling, celebrating, and working to get more. but life, as usual, keeps surprising us with a long rest from humans, but no one knows till when... Last month I got horrible news from my friend, she told me that the RICH GROUP that used to bully us, is in the hospital right now and Adam had died, and the reason is one of their friends gets affected by the virus and he transmitted the infection to everyone in the group. I did not know what to say whether to feel sad or happy about what happened to them, but the day when they have tagged me to see how much money can bring happiness was one of the toughest moments that I have experienced in my life? A great lesson had been taught that day because I've realized that nothing lasts forever and no matter what can money bring, always put hope in other things as they say: "a small leap of faith has made all the difference". ask yourself this question always: It is right that money brings happiness but TILL WHEN?

Do you remember your first love? Were you filled with butterflies in your stomach? Did you blush around them, or stammer when trying to speak to them? Did you dream of a life with them, getting married and having children together? Many of us often remember our first lovers or crushes. Some may regret being with them, some miss that experience with them, and some never got to be with them. Now that last part might not seem important. However, consider this: How many times has it happened? Most of you might say, "Well, only a few times. I didn't have that many crushes growing up." That's perfectly normal. Some people fall easier than others.Yet, can you imagine what it must be like if you had so many crushes that you can barely remember them all? About 110. I have had 110 crushes, some of them on the same person multiple times. That's just a quick estimate. It might have been more, maybe slightly less, but can you guess how many of them liked me back? Only about 15--despite dating 16 people, one had fallen for me but I only wished to give them a chance because of our beloved friendship--had fallen for me as well. Do you know how many were loyal to me until the very end, and vice versa? Only three. Tony: boy #1. Cause of breakup? Died tragically in a hospital at 3 in the morning during late August two weeks after we started dating. He was shot attempting to save a man being robbed, received surgery, and his body rejected the transplant causing him to die. I was only around 11 or 12 at the time. Bryan: boy #2. Cause of breakup? We slowly drifted apart after nearly a year of being together. I don't know what went wrong, but we just stopped talking. We mutually agreed it was for the best if we saw other people. Finally, boy #3: Dani. My current partner. We had dated once before, back in my freshman year and his sophomore year. It was less than ideal and I left after almost a month. We continued to be friends after that. Then, late into my sophomore year after a traumatic event, something had sparked again. I'm not sure how or why, nor do I know now, but in early spring I started to develop feelings for him again. I had held it off for a good few months believing it was just a fluke. I told myself, "There's no way. He's just being nice, that's all. It'll go away eventually like it always does." Yet, the feelings never left. They grew and grew until I started to see signs that I had been trapped with possibly unrequited love for him. I remember how rumors began to spread, and he had admitted to them, that he had his eyes on a particular girl in our friend group. Shamefully I admit that I was outraged by this. It had happened so many times before, and I was a fool to continue to love those people for prolonged periods of time. Like my childhood friend, and a girl we both knew from another school on the campus grounds. I didn't want to be hurt again. So I continued to push those feelings away. They didn't stop. They pushed back, and I was forced to feel this way for so long. Then I had made a decision: sink or swim. He either loved me back or he didn't. I had yet taken another unsure dive into an unfamiliar lake in which I had drowned in many times before. I wrote him a small note at first, telling him my feelings in French. He returned to me and asked me why. I could not give a proper response. We left it off at that. A day or so later I gave him a longer note explaining in full detail what I meant by those small words. He took it, read it, and said not a word to me afterwards. I had believed myself to be rejected, and like many times before I was heartbroken. "What else did you expect?" I told myself that evening. "Of course he doesn't want you back, idiot! Why even bother?" I had prepared myself to be content with the loneliness I felt that day. That was why I was taken by surprise when he acted unusual the very next day. It's hard for me to recall everything that day as I write this, but I do remember one thing: that kiss we shared spoke more to me than words can ever manage. Now we are content and happy with one another, lasting a total of about 6 months, but that fear I felt back then still lingers in my mind. The fear of now losing him like the others. The fear that something will come between us, something neither of us can control or stop, and I'll be alone again. My mind works strangely in these situations. While I am outwardly happy with my life now on the exterior, my mind races with endless possibilities all ending with me being left forgotten and abandoned. I suppose that is my reason for not wanting to fall. All the failures pile up until it's too much for me to bear any longer, and they begin to haunt me day in and day out. My only hope is that this time is different, and I can finally share my love with someone properly again.

Pray tell, what do you think a child dreams of? Perhaps they wonder what it's like to soar through the sky? Or they dream of exploring the infinite universe? Or maybe they think about what growing up feels like? Each child has their own dreams and wonders, their own desires and destinies that they wish to pursue. So why is it that, in a world where following ones dreams is a universal goal, very few manage to get there? I'll tell you why. These dreams children often have, dreams that make them smile and excited for the next day to come as they rest their heads for the evening, are crushed by those who had their own desires smashed to bits in front of their very eyes. We dream to be whatever we desire before those wishes are blown to dust, and then we grow up only to do the same to our own children. Why does this cycle of misery continue so often? Why is it so hard to break this link, this chain, that holds many of us down? I once dreamed of many things. I wanted to be a ballet dancer, then a singer, then a firefighter, then an artist, and then soldier working to protect my country. All of those dreams were decimated by my family. I understood well enough that they had good intentions, and their reasoning was everything but illogical (we are too poor to pick ourselves up after the fall after all). However, everything has become different for me now. I fear of the future, and my desires are unclear. Do I chose what is best for my family's sake, as well as my own, or do I follow my heart's true wishes and let my dreams guide me through the rocky stream of life? Do I work simply for the pay so I can live a better life, or do I work because I enjoy it and love doing what I accomplish? My life has made it all hard to choose. I had grown up believing that I can only have one, not the other, and thus cannot formulate a plan to achieve both goals. Even in writing--for I once shared my desire with my brother only for him to tell me I could not simply because I couldn't earn enough money unless I had plenty of wealth and connections at my disposal, in which I had neither nor--I know not whether to pursue this dream or to abandon it like all the others. My love for stories, helping others in need, children, and the creatures of this planet that we hold so dearly to our hearts is what drives me to pursue these careers. Yet, the need to do better than those before me who did not go to college, who had children at a younger age than they should have, and are still too poor and can barely afford rent every month drives me to pursue careers I have no interest in whatsoever. My whole life I have been stuck in this infinite loop of choices, deciding the pros and cons of each path, and I still have not found my way. Now here I am, a junior in high school almost ready to leave for college, and I still have the same broken mentality of my younger self. The version of me who could not decide for herself, and thus let others do it for her because it made them happy. The version of me who did what she desired in secret and was forced to wear a mask around her own flesh and blood. The version of me who at a young age continued to foolishly follow her heart only to have it broken again and again, over and over, until she could take no more and grew a lust for revenge against her transgressors. The version of me who was once so innocent and so pure, and who is now nothing more than a walking sag of flesh waiting until the day she can finally rest and leave this world behind forever, relieving her of all that has saddened and angered her for decades. So, again, I ask of you: what do you think a child dreams of? Space? Love? Adventure? Well, one thing is certain. This child here dreams of being herself again. She dreams of freedom, true love, and a happy life. It matters not to her how she gets there. She cares not if she is poor or rich. She cares not if she has a 3-acre mansion in LA or lives in a one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. The only thing she cares about is finally being happy again. That is her childhood dream.