Exactly what’s on the tin.
Somehow, I followed an odd train of thought (and Google) to the website of a university I’ve been considering for the better part of 2 years. I wrote a letter of intent and, before I could talk myself out of it, submitted my application (English Lit major, with a specialty in creative writing).
It’s not my first trip to this rodeo. Far from it. In fact, I attended university before, on 3 separate occasions, before finally dropping out. But I like to think that I never abandoned my education; it was just on hold.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, the adults in my life told me that writing was just a hobby and that I should major in something practical. Since I was a 4-time honours student and reasonably skilled in language studies, translation seemed a pretty safe choice: graduate, work for the government, get paid.
That said, the path isn’t always so clear-cut, and I quickly learned that I wasn’t ready for the university experience- specifically, my newfound freedom, and the responsibility that came with it. I had too little real-world knowledge and was overly concerned with the expectations of others; midterm season found me depressed, miserable, and failing all 3 classes I was still enrolled in. It was the first time I’d ever failed, not to mention on such a grand scale and at something as big as my education. The future I’d invested so much of myself in, up to that point, fell apart, and it was devastating, in a way that I had never known anything could be.
After a brief hiatus, I tried returning, but the outcome was the same. By definition, repeating the pattern and expecting a different result is an exercise in futility, and I realized that my work was cut out for me: identify what was causing the problem and fix it before making the commitment again.
Now that I’m an adult, my perspective has changed, and it seems so obvious that my love of books and words was the logical choice all along. I’m working on a lot of the issues that caused me to fail before, and I’m confident that I’ve made the “write” choice this time.
The point of me sharing this story is not to frighten anyone, but to empower you all. So maybe your first draft in the great novel of life is not perfect; maybe you went off on a tangent that has no relation to the plot, made a mistake somewhere, or took too long to reach the main objective… But you made it, and doesn’t matter how- only that you did.
For the next month, I’ve decided to challenge myself to do at least one thing per day that scares the shit out of me. The me that was sad and defensive and hurt is dying, and I won’t mourn her in the slightest; too long have I walked in her shadow.
If you decide to join me (and I hope you will), feel free to post your own courageous feats in the comments section. You can also drop me a line on Facebook or Twitter (@lauravbwrites), and share the brave things you’ve done. I’d love to hear from you!
The Write Place 