Prove everyone wrong
My ex-fiance used to laugh at my dreams. He called me “cute” whenever I sat down to write. This one time, I declined an invitation to sex so I could finish a short story. He asked why writing meant so much to me. “It’s not like you’ve got a book deal with Viking,” he said.
That story wound up in a highly respected, second-tier literary journal. Surprisingly, we were still dating when the issue arrived in my mailbox. Showing him didn’t change anything. He tossed it on the coffee table and asked if they’d paid me.
My dad said the same thing, but in a less vindictive way.
Both times, I stuttered. “No, but you see….”
And their eyes trailed off. Those kinds of moments taught me an important lesson. When you have to respond with “no but you see,” then it means you should stop caring about their opinion.
You don’t have to justify your passion to anyone. Just go after it. Sure, you still have to take care of the important stuff — rent, bills, health. But if you’re doing that, then nobody else has the right to tell you shit.
A common piece of advice I heard in my 20s? “You’re wasting your time.” Sometimes, the words sank in and made me reflect. The same answer always emerged.
Was there anything else I’d rather do with my free time than read and write?
