It Took a Pandemic for Me to Accept My Calling

For twenty years, I secretly hoped I’d find some other hobby or skill that I loved as much as writing

Before I became a mother, I didn’t know what my passions were. I couldn’t articulate my opinion well, except in writing, and my gut led me through life in surges of impulse and intuition.

I hadn’t realized this was even a problem until I become a mother. But that urgent need for safety, joy, and fulfillment in the lives of those around me changed the approach I had for my own life.

And yet, outside of my family and friends, I still had trouble prioritizing what I was truly passionate about, which was writing. When it came to writing, I told myself that I just didn’t have time, I wasn’t good enough, it wasn’t worth it, or that it was just for fun.

For twenty years, I secretly hoped I’d find some other hobby or skill that I loved as much or that might be more lucrative. I kept looking around for the career path that would be just as satisfying and creative.

I kept switching workplaces to try to pin it down. I thought if I could just find that sweet spot in my career, I will have arrived.

But halfway through the breastfeeding stage with my second child, the pandemic came…