From the time I was in third grade, I knew that I loved to write. We took a creative writing class as an elective and I immediately fell in love. The idea of creating my own world that I could control was electrifying. I couldn't stop imagining all the different worlds I could create, nurture and bring to the public eye. It became a bit of an addiction.

When I moved to middle school, my love for writing grew stronger. I actually became so engrossed in writing that I got in trouble in school because my grades in Math and Science started to slip. Instead of paying attention in class, I would have my notebook in my lap and I would just write and write until the bell rang. My teachers, who loved that I had so much passion, warned me that I couldn't get too involved in one thing or else I would lose focus on my whole school career. It was after that talk that the unthinkable happened.

Once I was in high school, I didn't have the same passion for writing I once did. I focused on drama and dancing more than I did my writing. Soon, my stories started to dwindle. Instead of going home and shutting myself in my room to write for hours, I would stay after school and hang out with my friends. My notebooks were replaced with my iPod and the occasional lip gloss. Writing went to the back burner; after a while I didn't even remember what it felt like to sit down and write without stopping. I lost a piece of myself that was once so important to me and I didn't even realize it.

Now, I've graduated college and I'm looking towards the future. I've been asking myself the same question a lot over the past two months: what do you want to do for the rest of your life? Of course I knew I would do something with my English degree but what would I do exactly? Finally, about a week ago, I was going through my routine of looking for jobs to apply to when something caught my eye; it was an ad asking for freelance writing for a magazine.

After looking into freelance writing, I was intrigued. I could be hired by different magazine or publishing houses to create and write content for them. I would be paid to write creatively. I couldn't believe a job like that existed. If third grade Kayla had known that, her head probably would've exploded. But, before I hit the apply button, I stopped myself. I hadn't written anything original in years. What if I couldn't do it anymore? After a lot of thought, I sat down in my room with a blank piece of paper and started writing whatever came to my mind. After an hour, I had eleven pages of original work. I couldn't believe it. After all this time, writing came as naturally to me as riding a bike.

This journey has taught me that it's okay to lose your way. It's okay to have your passion for something dwindle for a while. It doesn't mean the passion won't come back again. If you really believe in yourself, I promise it will come back and it will come back in full force.