A year ago I wrote a personal essay called "Millennial Writing Life" that I didn't intend to show anyone, because its only purpose was self- therapy, and making light of the weird and unpredictable world that was right in front of my face, after finishing my university studies. I edited it a couple times, and what started as a for fun "maybe when I'm old and grey I'll add this to my memoir" essay, turned into a "showing this to people will somehow help me understand the world around me better" essay. Once I decided that I actually wanted to show it to people I sent it to Brick literary magazine first, and then once they rejected it I sent it to several other literary magazines and online magazines, and they also rejected it. An important lesson I've learned about writing is that taking rejection personally isn't a good idea but something about watching something that is so deeply personal, and from a vulnerable place, be rejected several times in a row made me question whether I should have shown it to anybody in the first place, and then I thought to myself: "maybe this piece is just for me, and if I actually become a best selling writer one day, perhaps someone will find it, and it will be worth something." That's when I realized what was really wrong. I was putting too much emphasis on the negative, and talking through a cliche perception of who I think I am to other people, that I wrote during a period of reading too many Everyday Feminism articles, and watching a lot of Laci Green videos on Youtube in my spare time. The draft that I revised prior to sending it to UK-based online magazine, Talking Soup Magazine, (who recently decided to publish "Millennial Writing Life" by the way) focused on the aspects of the story that are extremely important: what I've accomplished, inner desires I'm still working on fulfilling, and my perception on Millennial stereotypes, that came up in articles I've read on Millennial issues, over and over again.