There are a number of reasons I started this blog fourteen months ago--one of which was that I loved to write. I have always loved to write. When I was around eight or nine, I started writing all kinds of short stories. Some never got finished and would just sit in a notebook. Some I actually completed and would put in little binders.
When I was ten, I started a "newspaper" with my then BFF and called it the "Treetop Times." We'd each write articles for it and type it up and hand it out to our classmates.
At eleven, I corroborated with two other friends and we wrote a puppet show skit for the school Christmas play--our teachers actually let us take some time out of class to work on it together! I also got second place in a district essay contest.
This entire time I was also heavily into reading--I had my favorite authors and just knew that somehow, I'd be a writer when I grew up. I didn't think I'd be able to write a whole book though! Maybe magazines or newspapers. I heard the term "freelance writer" and thought that would make me happy--I would just write for whomever about whatever they wanted!
So, in seventh grade, I was twelve. My life, my dreams, my goals were all drastically turned around upside down. Mr. Hall (Michael Chapman Hall. Name has not been changed to protect the innocent) was asking us all one day in class what we wanted to be when we grew up. Without hesitation, I proclaimed that I was going to be a journalist. Mr. Hall nearly laughed at me and said, "With the things you've turned in for English class?"
Lovelies, to this day, I have no idea what he actually meant by that comment. Was it because my imagination was so vivid? (it really was, some of the stuff I wrote was out there! But it was well-written!) But it didn't matter what he actually meant because all I heard was, "That's never going to happen. You're not good enough."
I don't know if I shared with anyone then what he said or how it made me feel. Years later, my mom told me I shouldn't have taken it so personally. But that one moment, shut me down. I still wrote in my journal and would dabble in some poetry in my notebooks here and there; but I never wrote again like I did before his comments. I lost my love for writing because I thought I wasn't good enough.
Years have passed and occasionally I've thought about changing career fields or maybe trying to do some "freelance writing," but I never did. The thoughts still haunting me that I wouldn't be good enough.
However, the story has a happy ending! I mentioned a few weeks ago I may be involved in a new endeavor! And I am! I was recruited to be a contributor to The Flairist--an online magazine for the shamelessly ambitions woman! (Read more about it here!) I'm super excited to be involved in a movement and product that is all about helping women find their way in love, life, and careers. And even more excited that at least in some aspect, I have made it! I am a sort of journalist--when Mr. Hall thought I'd never do it.
So don't give up on your dreams, lovelies! Don't let anyone ever tell you that you CAN'T do something or you WON'T do something. You are the one that controls all those decisions! It's never too late to try something you really want to do.
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