I Published My Book!

There’s a moment in everyone’s life when they think, ‘I should write a book.’ But not many people end up doing it.  I wanted to write a book since I was a little girl, and I had been writing since the day I learned how to write.

When I was in elementary school and had just started writing, I went to my parents and said: “Mom, Dad, I wrote a story.” My parents got excited and asked what I had written, and I read it to them, ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.’ They smiled and said, “The story should be original, something you came up with, something that hasn’t been written before.” That’s when I realised that writing was much more than just writing. What we desire is not just the meeting of pen and paper. The ideas had to come from your core, not from someone else.

During my middle school years, I wrote all sorts of things. Mostly stories with positive endings, characters from my neighbourhood, and poems filled with family love. By the time I entered high school, the rose-coloured stories I had written were replaced by short essays reflecting the struggles of a depressed girl against life. Puberty was hitting hard.

On the first year of university, I decided to start a blog. I imagine- I would write, post my pieces online, and the whole world would read them. The days of showing my writings only to my family and a few close friends were over. My writings deserved much more than being hidden away in some corner. So, I did just that. I started a blog and began writing regularly. At first, my enthusiasm and energy were high. I would write posts every day, every week, and share them on Twitter. Then I would eagerly wait for the comments. At first, I received comments from my close family and friends. As time passed, people I didn’t know at school and in my classes started stopping me in the corridor to give me feedback and praise for my blog. Anonymous comments filled with compliments also began to appear on my blog.

Back then, I was way more active on Twitter, so I could reach many people, but by the rules of the game on social media, I didn’t know everyone I followed or interacted with. That’s why people sometimes got to know me through my blog first and then met me in person. I enjoyed the perks of my blog during my university years quite a lot. I even got a secret crush out of it. I had fully embraced this hobby, and I believed it was one of the best steps I had taken for myself.

Time passed, and I graduated from university. My posts turned to more career-oriented pieces about what a recent graduate does and does not do. Even though I had known what I wanted from the early years of university, I still shared my experiences in case they might be helpful to others, trying every possible path because I hadn’t yet reached my goals. I didn’t know what I was doing, but it seemed like writing was helping me find my way. Despite the fact that my writing seemed to offer advice and guidance to the fellow graduates, the reality was far from that. I wrote because I needed to find my path. It was almost a way of thinking out loud.

At times, I questioned if I was oversharing, especially since some people commented that what I shared was too bold and personal. But I had always expressed myself best through writing, so if I didn’t share my thoughts, what would I do? Human relationships, and human lives in general, are meant to be messy, filled with all kinds of emotions. And what is oversharing in our limited lives, anyway? If someone reads what I write and feels understood, then my job in this world is done.

The best result of sharing my ‘somewhat’ personal thoughts was receiving messages from people saying: “Actually, I’ve often thought the same, but I’ve never been able to put it into words like that.” Although I never cared much about view counts, I always valued having a thoughtful and responsive readership. That’s why it gave me the greatest satisfaction when my words resonated with others.

Fast forward a couple of years. In August 2022, my friends and I went to Winchester, a small city in the UK, and visited a small second-hand bookshop. While I was browsing, I came across a book: The 50 Things: Lessons for When You Feel Lost’.

The author, who is also a father of three, wrote the book for his children — a collection of life lessons and values he wanted to pass on to them. I finished it in a day and that gave me the greatest idea of all time. The very same day, I promised myself that I would write a book by the time I am thirty. I was 28 years old back then, and I was thinking, I’ve got an awful lot of time, no need to rush.

So, I didn’t do anything till I became 29. On my 29th birthday, my best friend got me a book called ‘Start writing your book today’ as my birthday present, and on that very day, I started writing. I write, write and write.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, May 6, 2026, my book finally has been published on Amazon. I still cannot believe I made thee dream of a little girl come true.

Lost and found: a memoir to my 30-year-old-self.

I don’t know if I was lost when I started writing it, but I found myself many times throughout the years.

What did I write about? My adventures. When I say adventures, I mean ‘a life full of ups and downs.’  Anything and everything. From my travels to my PhD, to living abroad, my childhood, my first love, my first heartbreak, my struggles and happy moments.

I don’t know if there will be more books in the future, but I am very happy to say that I am a published author now.

If you want to check my book out, here she is:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0GZMVD7W9?ref=sp_email