My story...

I was a bit late in my years to learn how to spell, read and write. During my primary school days, I was always the last student to go home because my teacher kept me late after each class as punishments for not being able to spell as simple as the word 'one'. Frankly speaking, my mother tongue was no better.
Somehow I can't quite grasp the relations between the symbols and sounds being produced. Once, my teacher told me to participate in a story-telling competition. She got me a short story (one sentence per page) - the pictures looked simple enough - but I still couldn't read it. So it went on until i reached standard 3. I used to worry that one day i might forget my ABC. I was so scared in those days that i never recited them at school or at home within ear-shot from my parents. By the age of 10, i was able to read and write - not completely but i was getting there. I remembered feeling abundant relieves that i have never forgotten my ABC.

I started reading English novels when i was in form 1 - using the money i received from my scholarship. From that day onwards, reading has become part of my hobby and my collection of books is my pride and soul. Now looking back, the credits deserved to go to my parents; for giving me time and space and never pressure me to become something that i am not - in this case, a five year old daughter who could read and write.

So, reading...as well as English as whole, has always been a part of a 'controversial' or 'blurred' phase in my early life. When i was in secondary school, i denied of ever liking the English subject because i was afraid of it - part of me always felt inferior, fragile and insecure. I seek refuge in Science subject - believing that my ambition is to become a doctor. I let my family, teachers and friends thought it to be so too. And as I excelled in Science, I was always the top in English as well (its a mystery even to me). Even so, I remembered feeling an inconsistent throbbing in my chest every time it was time for English.

I keep lying to myself until i couldn't do it anymore. I felt lost without a dream of my own. The day i decided to take writing as my way of life - was a day of salvation.

For once, i am out in the open. Yes, i love English. After all that i have been through to reach this realization, I'm not going to give up on it that easily.