This blog has taken on many iterations. It started with specifically outlined projects in 2012, including and primarily functioning as an account of my 5 week solo backpacking trip from the summer before. Then it became a repository of my thoughts and feelings as I tried moving to Paris in 2013, and then moved back in 2014. A year ago, I briefly tried turning it into a travel blog, but that only lasted a handful of posts. Then I took a break while I tried to figure out my life and what I want.
I’m proud of this blog. Though I’ve been absolutely terrible at regularly posting, I always end up coming back to it. It reflects some of my many interests, and the fact that some topics and styles of blogging have worked better than others has helped me to hone in on what and how I like to write.
Now I am entering a new phase of my career and life. I am leaving my day job to start life as a writer and artist, in the simplest sense. I’ve decided to commit my time and energies to what I really want to do. I’m doing this in as responsible a way as I can without sacrificing the point of it (which means there’s a roof over my head and I can still pay for it, but there’s an easel and a writing desk under that roof and they take up most of the space).
I’m nervous. I’m nervous of letting myself down, of not accomplishing what I want to accomplish. I’m scared that in a year I won’t have anything to show for all my big talk.
But I’m also really excited. For the last two years I have job hopped, career-idea hopped, apartment hopped, even country hopped. I have been dogged by a perpetual sense of discontent, of searching, of feeling that there’s something else, that I’d rather be working for myself and doing something different. I just haven’t been able to pin down what that something else was.
Until a few weeks ago. One night, I had a conversation with my friend about how I’m not living the life I want to be living, how I’m not moving towards anything meaningful, how I’m selling my energy and time to jobs I don’t care about just to pay the rent. I realized how frustrated I was with being caught up in this dirty cycle, and I realized I was sick of it. The next day, my employer asked if I wanted to go full-time, as I had up to this point only been part-time. And I said no. And I realized I wasn’t freaking out about what that meant. And I knew it was perfect. This was my chance.
So I’m doing it. I’m creating the life I want to live. Because I only have one life, and I don’t want to waste it. I won’t surrender it to anyone.