Have you ever tried explaining the course of your life in a coherent way and finding out that it is one big mess? At least, in my perception it is. I had always assumed I was the type of person that was on the right track for reaching my goals. My goals were defined as:
- finding a suitable job after graduation;
- buying a suitable car; and
- getting a modest house.
However, the last couple of years I have gone totally rogue. I moved 3 times and left 2 graduate programs unfinished. After that, I worked as a teaching assistant for a while so I could earn some money and save.
About 4 months ago, I decided to quit without a specific plan. It took me some time to take this jump because it is not really what society tells you. My friends are starting their first jobs and some even their second. And there’s my family who wonders why I am not pregnant yet. I have had a hard time answering people’s questions about what it is that I am doing right now, because I was struggling with admitting to myself what I have been doing. ‘I am doing some sports and some hobbying,’ is what came out most of the time, which is not fair to myself.
The right words are: I am starting for myself as an artist. I aspire a career in something creative. I want to make. And I do not feel too discriminative towards what those things might be: DJ’ing, painting, dancing (perhaps), martial arts, maybe becoming a model (even though I am only 5 foot 3), making vlogs about whatever the heck I want, writing—the sky is the limit.
These words allow myself to do the work that I assigned myself to, instead of looking for an office job that will leave me drained. Simultaneously, I feel guilt and shame because I am not serving well. And there is a nagging voice that is telling me that I am weak because I am unable to fit myself into a regular 9 to 5. The good thing is that I know the voice is wrong and it disappears as soon as I get to work.
Somehow this path feels like escaping from gravity.