People who know me from my life before college know me as a nerdy kid who followed the rules and loved math. Those of you who've had the beautiful pleasure of knowing me since then know the "me" who loves art, is a writer by profession, and believes "rocking the boat" is an appropriate life philosophy.
Writing became my job accidentally. When I left graduate school in history, which was the right decision for me, I didn't know what to do with my degrees in humanities fields. I became a reporter because I'd enjoyed working on my college newspaper. It turned out, though, that I didn't care much for rah-rah-style "community" journalism. I left in June 2004 to freelance.
Since that time, I've resorted primarily to writing copy for websites. I've written sites for ambulance-chasing attorneys, a blog on life with babies, and basic content on topics ranging from building a compost bin to the course requirements for genetics degrees. Over the past six years, I have researched and written on hundreds of topics and can recall facts about both obscure and distinguished topics.
Writing with one baby, then two, and now two preschoolers underfoot has been a struggle but has taught me that women still wear more hats than men and that wearing them with grace and style is a delicate balancing act I'm still mastering.
Corporate writing wasn't a career goal for me. It was a way to pay bills while I worked on my "other" writing - you know the writing I mean. I would work on my "real" writing after my paid work was done. Those 4 children's book manuscripts, a long-untouched tickle file, and novels in various stages of incompletion still sit in my filing cabinet, neatly packed away for a time when I have enough energy at the end of the day for that "real" writing.
The stirring as I've watched Jayden has become more difficult to ignore. He has a brilliant, quirky mind made for math. He gets the beauty of math. He understands calculations on an intuitive level. At 5, he can talk about the connections he finds between number groupings, and we've yet to find a pattern he couldn't identify. Yet...I listen to him make up stories, using toys - or his sister - to act out the character in his dramas. (They're always dramas with Jayden.) I watch his joy when I say he can paint.
I see him in two parts - one that loves structure and numbers and the other that revels in the artistry of his creations. What I see when I see Jayden is me. His lack of the inhibitions brought on by social pressure allow him to be both. He doesn't have to choose. And neither do I.
Starting this fall, I will be seeking a teaching certification and completing a degree in math. My writing will occupy my time as a pursuit that allows me to stretch and dream. I still want that elusive first book contract, but I know now that I cannot be happy if I allow one side of me to flourish only at the expense of the other.
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