day four.

I'm watching the Opening Show for the Winter Olympics 2010. So far, it's been supa cool - thanks for the entertainment, Vancouver, thanks.

The Olympics gets me thinking, though. When I was 6 years old, I was on track to be an olympic gymnast. Yes, I know that sounds a bit silly now, since I'm 22 and all. But seriously, I started gymnastics when I was 3 years old, and by the time I was 6, I was already on level 9 (the highest possible) and in classes with all 14 and 15 year olds. That year, my coach sat down with my mom and me and told us I was on the road to the Olympics and that I needed to be on the team. I competed for 2 years, but when I was 8, I quit. Gymnastics was hurting my back, and my mom was worried. To this day, she says it was my decision, but I think I didn't want to disappoint her. I missed it so much that I tried to go back when I was 10, but I had lost a lot of my abilities and I was too upset with myself to keep going, so I quit again. I moved on to voice, piano, and drama lessons and that was that.

It makes me wonder, though, what would my life be like if I had stayed on that track? To this day I feel like it's the only thing in my life I've been really good at. I wonder how I would feel about myself, who my friends would be, where I would live. I know I'm where I'm supposed to be, and I really do love my life. Honestly, I wouldn't trade anything for my husband and friends, and I wouldn't know hardly any of them if I had become a professional gymnast. Actually, the people in my life are my favorite part about it; I like them so much more than I like myself.

But it still hurts to think about that dead dream. It gives me more motivation to really be a writer, though, and a good one. That is my dream now, and I will not give it up.