Nursing (financial stability) or writing (my dream)? I guess that’s the question. At fourteen the answer was simple.
“Happiness is far more important! It’ll be great; I’ll live in New York and write. Write, a few best sellers, and then dip my feet in a new pool of water with screenplays. Write a couple of amazing movies for Spike Lee. Then I’d travel every inch of the globe to spread and expand my writing.”
Ha! I thought I had it all figured out. Now, I’m not saying that my dream isn’t impossible to achieve, it’s just that my dream may not be able to pay the bills. Do you know how much it cost to live in New York City!? It’s crazy expensive. I’d probably have to work two jobs on top of my writing just so I could survive. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind back braking hard work, but for the rest of my life?
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As I get older, and continue to see my love ones struggle, I really question my willingness to be a starving artist. Struggling has been a way of life for me ever since I could walk and talk. Watching my parents struggle every single day to care for my siblings and I has molded me into the hard-working person I am today. I wouldn’t change my upbringing for anything, but I’m not going to lie, being derived from the struggle has kind of scared me outta of my dream.
I feel like a sell-out for even contemplating my dream. I’ve always been so sure of what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Aware that it doesn’t make much money at all and not really caring.
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As time passes I start to care more and more. I start worrying about medical insurance. Bills. Retirement funds. Owning a house (because I’ve always wanted one). Car payments. Ugh! I hate growing up (don’t do it!! it’s a trick).
I really don’t want to choose because I don’t want to regret anything. I don’t want to be old and gray, and wonder how my life would’ve been different if I stayed true to my heart. But then I don’t want to look back and admit that my life would have been a lot easier if I stuck to nursing.
Hmmmm... I don’t know!
