So, do you ever feel discouraged because you aren't the best at something? I often find myself not wanting to pursue something because I am not ever going to live up to the ideal I see in my head, or on the page in front of me, or (especially) on someone's blog. Which is silly, I know, but I still feel like my efforts aren't going to be validated or valued because they aren't good enough. Or maybe not
as good as they could be. This is my fear. My other fear, which is very much related, is that I won't be taken seriously. My hobbies and dreams are not unique and in the last few years, they have become so commonplace as to almost become cliche. I don't want to be cliche or common. (Who does???)
* * *
I was at lunch with two delightful friends (Mel and Carolyn) whom I don't see often enough. We were reconnecting and reminiscing, telling funny stories and catching up. The lunch was winding down and I was beginning to feel the tug to get back to my baby when Mel asked me a question that pierced right to my heart and made it crack wide open. "Barbie," she said, (she calls me Barbie as only a very select and elect few do), "What do you want to be when you grow up?" What surprised me most was not what I said but how easily it came forth, as if I'd been waiting for someone to ask me that very question.
* * *
I spent my early twenties (*gulp*) pursuing interests that brought me measures of happiness for a season. I tried lots of different jobs in different fields. I slowly kept working on my degree, changing my major once. I was in a process of elimination- learning what I liked and disliked about myself, my work, my hobbies and changing as I learned. I worked on my relationships with John, with myself, with my family, with God.
Now that I am in my late twenties (*double gulp*) and have become a mother, I feel like my time is so much more valuable. It is not mine alone anymore. The things I choose to invest time in often mean time away from my family, so they had better be worth it to me!
* * *
The question was still hanging in the air when I answered Mel.
"I want to be a mom and have a million kids. I want to be home when my kids get home from school. I want their friends to want to hang out at my house. I want to feed everyone."
That part was easy to admit. I am a motherer and my friends know that about me. The next part was scarier to say out loud.
"And I want to be a photographer. And a blogger. Like, a professional blogger."
Even in my safe little circle of friends who have known me since I was an awkward, loud thirteen-year-old, I was afraid to hear their response. There it is again, that
fear. My beautiful, talented, smart, accomplished friends were nothing but encouraging which gave me a glimmer of courage.
Enough courage to write this post. Enough courage to register for my
first blogging conference.