And really, it all started with this blog.
A few months ago I decided that what I had spent one year of my life working towards was nothing more than a backseat copout. Yes, I would enjoy being a teacher. The work is rewarding, the benefits are good, and the pay is decent. But if I had gone forward with my seemingly failsafe plan, I know it would be my first, and hopefully only, regret. Not because I wouldn't enjoy it, but because I was denying myself the opportunity to explore something bigger, something I have wanted for as long as I can remember.
So I took a chance. I took a chance on that little girl who would scribble notes on any corner of paper she could find and sneak them into pockets and envelopes. I took a chance on the child that dreamt up movies and books and wrote them all down, as silly as they seemed. I took a chance on the angsty teenager who wrote prose when she should have been writing math equations. I took a chance on the girl who all throughout college was happiest when she was writing, no matter what it was. I took a chance on myself, to live up to, not the potential the world imagined for me, but the potential that I imagined for myself.
Most people spend their whole lives jumping through other people's hoops. It starts when you're young, in school. You have to get good grades in high school, so you can go to a good college, so you can get a good degree, so you can get a good job, so you can buy a nice house, and have lots of nice things, and marry someone who did exactly the same thing, and raise your children to go through the exact same numbing process. Even people who say they reject that way of thinking or that lifestyle are still victims of it. I know I am. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have devised my failsafe plan and cast aside the one thing that I was genuinely enthusiastic about doing for a career.
It's not popular, and it's not easy, but it's worth it.
I have to thank my mother though. If it wasn't for her I'd probably be in some cubicle with runs in my panty hose and grey hairs bursting from my scalp, making wads of cash (or just scraping by) and crying myself to sleep each night or maybe I'd be too desensitized to cry about it, and would just complacently pass through each day. It doesn't really matter if you get the glamorous end of the stick or not in a scenario like that, because either way you've sold your soul in some form or another, and trying to hold on to your bearings in an environment that tries so devilishly to rape you of your own sense of self wears on even the strongest minded individuals. But my whole life, my mother has always reminded me to stay afloat. I could be sinking, deep and fast, and right when I'm about to slip, there she is to remind me.
I can only imagine how difficult being a parent is. But I don't even know where to begin comprehending how difficult being that good of a parent is.
So I've thanked my blog (which is really a modest way of thanking myself, but really, I'm totally patting myself on the back right now because this was definitely one of the harder things I've committed to in my life, and I've still got a long way to go, so I'm going to need all those back-pats,) and I've thanked my mom, but I also have to thank my husband, Aaron.
Every day when he comes home, he asks me how my writing went, and continues to encourage me to push forward and make those contacts and write articles and apply for internships and jobs. Having that everyday, positive encouragement makes it so much easier to do something as intimidating as this, and to be completely honest, it was Aaron who suggested that I start a blog!
Anyway, I've gone on far too long. But the point is, it's easy to let other people decide what's best for you, or what you "should" be doing, or to fall into one of the infinity number of molds just waiting for you to fall into. But, like most things, it just doesn't count when it's easy.
Right now, today, I'm celebrating being scared, stressed and nervous, but in the good kind of way - like when you're about to go on roller coaster. It's exhilarating, and I'm genuinely happy and excited for each minute of my day, every day. The best part? If by this time next year I decide that it's not going to work out, I can always go back to boring Plan A... but I won't let that happen.
xo.