It’s been two months since I’ve written anything for the blog, and it’s because I’ve been grappling with this question.
As I’ve mentioned several times on other platforms—because I’m literally a broken record—my bank account has hit the negatives, and I am behind on paying my bills. My mental health is in the gutter. Bad things are happening to people I love. To top it all off, we’ve hit twenty degrees Fahrenheit outside, and my heat is out.
I know adulting wouldn’t be easy. Everyone hits their low points. Then their lower than low points.
But damn.
It feels like I’ve been experiencing lows in the most important areas of life for the longest time. Granted, there have definitely been highs, and I am nothing short of grateful for them. However, I have always financially struggled, and not until recently, I have never missed important payments (it’s too late in the night for my brain to grasp if that makes sense).
To make it worse, I love my job. Like, I want to do it for as long as possible. Loving your job is nowhere near horrible, but bringing home $1700 a month after busting your butt? The tears are streaming.
As I dig myself further into a “How I am supposed to live with no money and the guilt of asking for support?” spiral, I think about if it’s all worth it. Worth the struggle to follow my dreams.
Initially, my dreams consisted of creating. I wasn’t sure to what extent. Now that I’ve gotten the position in the high school library, the dream has evolved into creating for other people, especially in the realm of social media management, website design, graphics for branding, and creating three-dimensional models of spaces for potential remodels (the last one is very specific, but it’s my favorite thing about my major). On top of successfully freelancing and doing creative projects, I want to continue working in the library because everything about that job is right up my alley—books, organization, creating graphics, showing love and support to teenagers (who are often overlooked).
Because I’m stuck in life—and it seems to be increasingly getting worse—I don’t feel like I’m meant to follow my dreams. The optimistic part of me wants to believe that’s not the case, but the logistic part of me who has been honing her creativity for years to no avail feels like I’m not the right person for the dreams I’m having.
Comparison is a thief, and unfortunately, I’m letting her steal a whole bunch from me. Motivation. Enthusiasm. Joy.
I see people who are my age or younger who are wildly successful, and I restrain myself from screaming to the cloudless sky “When will it be my turn?!!!” I’m not looking for celebrity status or anything of the sort; I just want to find financial freedom in creating.
Which brings me back to the question: Am I Qualified to Follow My Dreams?
