Member-only story
I Didn’t Choose Writing. Life Pushed Me Into It.
I was never a writer….Writing entered my life when almost everything else had fallen apart.
It started with a day when I didn’t know I was about to lose a part of my identity. My husband had lost every single penny we had. Debt followed, and before we could understand how deeply we had fallen, we were forced to leave the rented house where we had been living. The house belonged to my husband’s business partner — the same man from whom we had borrowed money. When we couldn’t repay him, he locked the house and refused to let us take anything out. Our clothes, our memories, and everything we owned remained inside. So did my educational certificates — my graduation, my post-graduation, and every document that proved who I was. Standing outside that locked door, I wasn’t just losing my belongings; I was watching my identity slip out of my reach
Among those belongings were my educational certificates.
My graduation. My post-graduation. Years of study, sacrifice and dreams.
They were suddenly out of my reach.
And just like that, I became something I had never imagined:
I was an educated woman, with a master’s degree in business administration, yet suddenly I couldn’t prove that I…
