Our bedroom has no full-length mirror. There is one at the canteen entrance. I always cherish a secret desire to take a glance before it at myself in a beautiful new dress. However, each time when it comes to the fulfillment, I get seized with such an uneasiness that I literally stagger  away--backing out at the critical moment. At the root of it is my lack of confidence by which I have been enslaved since childhood. It embarrasses me at the mildest praise, crushes my utmost efforts to say "No", and prevents me from asking my parents for one cent more than necessary. Among other things, lack of confidence has wormed its way into my love of piano. At the age of 14, one Sunday morning, I was woken up by a resounding hymn . Tracing that call of God into a neighboring church, I found myself deeply attracted by the melody of a piano--something beyond the means of my parents. To make it worse, people say a pianist is supposed to have music in the blood, but I believe I had none from my engineer father and technician mother. For days on end, I kept thinking of nothing else. I had a dream. It wasn't a dream after gold, which made some of my close friends to engage in business as self-employed traders or street peddlers. I was sometimes dazzled by their gold rings or elegant necklaces behind which, however, I seemed to catch sight of skeletons in their cupboards and was frightened away from the craze for fortunate. Out of despair, I kept it to myself, lack of confidence weighing heavy on me. I could do nothing but turn to my dream for comfort, for courage to aim high and wish for the impossible. I was convinced that before I could afford anything expensive (to me, it was a piano), I should climb up the academic ladder as high as possible. For the next nine years, I carefully held back my desire for music to keep my search for learning, especially in English studies. My efforts were so rewarding that I went successfully through high school and college in my hometown. When I received the admission notice for a second degree course at a famous university in Beijing, the national capital, tears welled up in my eyes. I knew my command of English was my wealth, for I might make a deal with a pianist who would give me access to his piano in exchange for English lessons. And that has come true! To this day, whenever I lay my fingers on the snow-white keyboard, ready for a melody, I still feel shy. I am quite aware of my limited music talent, but as a shy dreamer, I have found my way to success. How did the writer make her dream of playing the piano come true?
She turned to her friends for financial aid. She taught English in exchange for piano lessons. She was admitted to a university for a second degree course in music. She earned money by doing a part-time job to pay for her piano lessons.