One day, when my teacher randomly announced that the day was National Writing Day, he told us to jot down a few reasons why we wrote in a creative way. I wasn’t too stoked about the assignment, yet as my pen started moving, the letters spilled out and all of a sudden, I didn’t have enough room to express my reasons. As I dug into the back of memory, I came to the realization that I wrote not only to express the emotions that I usually bottle up, but let the stress and pain that it causes me to hold it in. When I was younger, I remembered having pretty bad temper tantrums, but that phase somehow faded away. Somehow, through reading and writing, I had learned to love journaling. So even if the day was boring, I forced my myself to develop a habit of writing before I slept. Soon or later, this habit became a hobby that I learned to love and enjoy.