This is it. I have decided to follow my dream. My dream of writing for others. It’s starting with a blog. Some freelance projects. And hopefully someday, a book.
I recently turned 35. I’m having what I deem a mid-30’s crisis. Yes. That’s a real thing. I had so many dreams as a young girl. I’m a dreamer. Day or night. And I often get lost in my thoughts. Sidetracked by them. Consumed by them. And then before I know it, my son is yelling “MOM” or my daughter is pulling on my leg to pick her up. And back to reality, it is. {SIGH} I had dreams of becoming something. Or someone. I always knew I wanted to be a leader in the health industry. A Doctor. A Therapist. A Nurse. Public Health Official. Hospital Administrator. All of those at some point or another! But I never got that far. I graduated college with my Health Science degree and shortly thereafter, became pregnant with my son. Now, for all you moms reading this, you know exactly what kind of sacrifices come with motherhood. And the astonishing ability it has to steal all your energy, time, money and even emotions. It’s hands-down the hardest job in the world. Granted, I haven’t held every job in the world. But I’m going to safely assume most mothers are united in this. Raising innocent little people to become outstanding big people is tough stuff. Hence, the reason my professional dreams came to a screeching halt. And if motherhood isn’t challenging enough, finding yourself standing solo takes an even larger toll. Dreams fade quickly when you’re struggling to make it work for just yourself and your child. Even though my now-husband is also my son’s father…we didn’t take that path together immediately following the growth of that little lima bean. So I did the single-mom thing for quite some time. And I gave up on all my dreams.
Ten years later. Three years of marriage, another kid and years of working in jobs that weren’t exactly what I wanted. I am feeling pretty empty. And even a little worthless. Did I enjoy some of them? Yes. Did I meet some incredible people along the way? Absolutely. But none have left me wanting more. Perhaps I’m TOO much of a dreamer. Perhaps my expectations are far too high. But I am done spending my days doing something that means nothing to me. I know God put each of us here for a purpose; to leave our own kind of legacy. And I’m on a mission to uncover mine.
I’ve been telling my husband that I’m not yet sure what my calling in life is. I’ve only ever felt average in everything I do. And maybe that’s okay. But a part of me longs to have something – – – ONE THING that I can call my own. And one thing that I can shout “this is what I do and I do it well.” When you’ve married a man who is pretty much All-American in everything he does, it’s intimidating. And kind of obnoxious. It’s part of why I love him. But it also motivates me to want to do more.
I’ve spent the past three months at home, recovering from an injury. Reflecting and planning my next move in life. Officially resigned from my desk-job; I’ve spent more time with my kids than I ever have before. And it’s been amazing. I’ve never been happier. So maybe my calling is being a mom and a wife. And I think I would be alright with that. But my dreamer-self also aspires to be more. And to do what I love. Write. So here I am. Taking the plunge. Screaming out to God. What is your will for me now??? He is speaking to me and I am listening. He’s telling me it’s finally my time to follow my dream.
Weakness for Words 