Drafts That Never Made It Into the Final Cut
My cousin was a model.
She was—and still is—gorgeous, with a contagious smile, creamy skin and a perfect body. Her hair bounces prettily when she walks. Everyone stops and stares whenever she goes.
She would wear gorgeous dresses and grace the covers of magazines. She would write—a lot. And draw. And travel (oh, the travelling! I remember we could never say for sure where she was at any given time) And talk to people in that charming way of hers that makes a nobody feel like royalty.
My cousin was a model, and I wanted to be just like her.
But this is not what this post is about. Being a model is not going to solve my problems—though the lifestyle sounds appealing, to be quite honest.
No, this post is about my need to create. About my need to have something to say, something smart and relevant.
This post is about my need to stay true to myself, even when the world is telling me otherwise.
I am about to lose my job. And so, as this door to a comfortable and rewarding life closes, so many windows open:
Do I move? (I have fallen in love with a gorgeous city I am not sure will ever love me back)
Do I stay? (Isn’t this madness? Doing the same thing and expecting different results?)
Do I give switching careers a try? (What career?! You haven’t even started!)
Do I stay in the career path that is guaranteed to give me a nice, awesome title? (Can you honestly say this will make you happy?)
Making decisions terrifies me. It’s probably the reason I am here right now, agonizing as I write this blog post.
Inaction, though, terrifies me even more.
In college, my art professor pulled me aside and asked,
“Why don’t you study art? You have so much natural talent!”
I told him I wouldn’t be able to afford it if I gave up my scholarship to pursue art.
He looked disappointed but didn’t say anything else. I went on my way.
Months later, a fellow student told me,
“out of everyone in this class, I see you becoming most successful. Your ideas are fantastic.”
And his approval meant so, so much to me, starved as I was for anything to validate my choices.
I finished that art class with the highest grade I ever had in my college career.
A year later, I graduated with a major in healthcare sciences.
I should be worried about how to make enough money to eat.
Instead, these exchanges are what keep me up at night.