I’ve been feeling drawn to this lifestyle of entrepreneurship. Oh my goodness, I am my father’s daughter! I guess it’s in my blood to not want a boss, a timesheet, a bi-weekly paycheck, or an empty soul. What would happen if I became a freelance writer like he’s suggested many times before? It’s definitely crossed my mind from time to time but more recently than ever. As I’m finishing up a Psychology degree with a minor in English, people often asked why I chose English to study along with Psychology. For some reason, many people don’t see the connection and maybe there isn’t one. I never know how to answer that question so I quickly respond with, “Uh, well I like books and reading. I also like writing here and there.” But is that the full truth? I always felt uneasy with the way I would answer them—as if my life is filled with such uncertainty and confusion. And who am I fooling, it completely and utterly is! When I look deep into my past, I remember writing stories about pictures I would draw with my Crayola crayons as a little girl. Where did those stories come from? Why didn’t I continue? Did it make me happy?
I think the reality of the world grabbed me by its teeth at a very young age. I always felt like I had to know what I wanted to do and be certain of it no matter the circumstances. As I look back on the last 6 years however, during high school, college barely even came to mind. That being said, I sharpened up quickly after high school and realized I needed to enroll. But what would I study?
I chose Psychology because I wanted a profession that helped others on this planet. I have a heart for people and I wanted to study the science behind it all. It’s something I always felt was my calling but I was uncertain why. Throughout all my passion for the human mind, a hint of curiosity steered me toward a life filled with literature and words composed by what was in my own head. As this continues to be the case, I feel like I am constantly looking for my purpose in life. What will happen when I have that piece of paper stating I completed 120 undergraduate hours primarily made of Psychology and English courses?
Going back to my life 6 years ago, I found myself drawn to the city and the life of lights and sirens. I found the city to be something that allowed me to show my skin in ways that would never be judged. I would watching movies like Definitely, Maybe and wanted that city loft and that job working in a bookstore or as a newspaper editor. I found myself mostly wanting to be that editor. I watch that movie to this day and still live vicariously through Rachel Weisz’s character. I wanted to expand my brain with the art of words and understand what hours of writing and no sleep would do for my self-identity. I would be my work and that completely contradicts my previous post of too much work and not enough play. Is it really work if it relieves you and releases the things that weigh you down (as what writing does for me)?
I guess what stops me is my fear of failure (so cliché). I’m certainly afraid of failure in everything I do in life but I feel like writing for a living brings out a whole different type of fear for me. As I’m writing this down right now, what comes to mind is, “Well if it scares you that damn much than it just might be worth it”. Who knows. Maybe the point of this jumble is the attempt to unravel my own path through life after college. Will I pursue my major, my minor, both, or neither? The world is full of opportunities and it’s all about what you take and what you reject. I guess I won’t know until I get there.
Thanks for listening,
Desiree.
An Inspired Woman 