Totally Random Tuesday Thoughts: "Oh...You're A Writer?"
I am *cough* 29 years old. It's taken me the better part of my adult life to decide what I actually wanted to be when I grew up. As if that would ever happen.
I have tried everything, I was a kennel cleaner for a dog boarding place, I taught preschool, I sold cars. And while I liked only a couple of these jobs, I still longed for something more.
I never went to college. Instead, I dated the bad boy, got knocked up, moved in with dad, moved out, moved in, got knocked up again, got married, got knocked up, moved a time or two, got knocked up again. In between that I worked various jobs. But I never found my *calling*.
A little over a year ago, I gave up, permantely, the 9-5. No longer hawking used cars at the corner lot. I became, what is by far my most favorite job, a stay at home mom.
Like most families, we knew that even with me staying home, I would have to find a way to make some income. And since selling my self on the street corner was out...so began my journey.
I tried a bunch of different things. But nothing really worked. Then I realized...I need to take a look at what I love to do and make that work for me.
Thus my freelance photography and writing journey began.
I love what I do. I write daily for the Examiner and weekly for Associated Content. I also have open bids on Elance. I love what I do.
Yes, I am a writer.
Yes, I am proud of what I do.
So why is it, if someone asks me "What do you do?" and I tell them "Oh, I am a freelance writer and photographer" I get the look.
You know, the I smell something nasty look?
Then they say "Oh...a writer. I can't imagine it pays much"
Then I fight the urge to tell them why I freelance. I don't do it for the money, I do it because it gives me a break from the romper room that is my life. I do it because it is cathartic for me, I do it because it is who I am.