i chose my life.

i decided to leave my biology major behind, to give up the idea of medical school that i’d aspired to my whole life, and try to be an artist.

What was i thinking?!

Growing up in a family with 3 scholar-athlete siblings, a brilliant and contagiously driven dad, and a Catholic-school-teaching mom, i predictably excelled at academics. In fact, since i was pretty sub-par at sports in comparison to my siblings, i put 110% of myself into my studies. i was bookish to say the least. i always had my nose in a textbook or drawing pad. i was also very pale-skinned with freckles and orange hair and a scary lack of eyebrows and lashes. (i had them, they were just super light blonde and invisible to the naked eye.) Top it all off with a growth spurt that had me teetering at almost 6 feet in the 7th grade, and, well, i was a textbook wallflower and introvert. i never had a super high opinion of myself. But i always felt that if my grades were without flaw, then that could be my “THING.” The thing that defined me and gave me purpose. And it was fine, because i loved studying. i loved learning. i loved the history channel and the DIY channel and making things and creating art. i was all up inside my head and it suited me. It wasn’t until college that the singular voice that had been guiding me my whole life started sounding a bit un-convincing. In college, i took my first art class, and it was all over.

In art class, my work was just an expression of myself, not my entire self, and people wanted to know about me! My teachers got me. They befriended me and saw something in me i’d thought was only in my head. The possibility that i could live my life as an artist started to get to me. i had a scary, come-to-Jesus moment where i knew if i didn’t try to live my life in the arts, that i’d always regret it. So i jumped, waiting for the proverbial net to appear.

So there’s a background. There is the root of my fear. I was (and am) afraid that the minute i chose art, that i’d let everyone down. Everyone who thought i’d be a brilliant surgeon, everyone who thought i’d do great things and save lives and live comfortably….my parents, my advisors, my science teachers. They all looked so glum and defeated when i announced i’d decided to pursue art after graduation and not medicine. Part of me couldn’t really blame them. i mean, if i were an objective observer, i’d probably have thought i was making a rash, poor decision as well! Lord knows i was terrified of taking the road less traveled.

So i’ll admit something i’ve only recently truly admitted to myself.  i’ve been living like i’m a let-down for 15 years. i’ve finally grabbed that swirling, nagging thought that’s been hanging over my head since graduation, and that’s it. Whenever i have financial struggles, i imagine my friends and family shaking their heads and thinking i’d be better off if i’d chosen the other path. Everytime i create an artwork and don’t see it sell, i feel like it’s a confirmation i’ve chosen incorrectly. It’s pretty ridiculous. i lived my whole life with the weight of other’s expectations (real or imagined) on my shoulders. And now, success feels like a mountain too high to climb, on top of the fact that i’ve come late to the race. Pretty heavy stuff, yes?

BUT!….ah, you knew a “but” was coming, right? i’ll go back to the opening phrases of this post. “i chose my life.”

i loathe the idea of being a whiner. i am not a “woe is me” kinda girl. i chose my life. i made a conscious decision to jump off the reliable ocean liner in the middle of the Atlantic and just start dog-paddling to a shore i couldn’t yet see. i stand by that choice. i think it’s made me the person i am today. Sure i work from home, usually in my pajamas, i do my own taxes. i don’t get a paid vacation or a retirement plan. But i DO get to watch my little boy grow and learn. i get to make him lunch and sit with him while he eats it. i get to teach him about what i do and i get to hop in the car midday for a happy meal with him any dang time i feel like it. After many years of freelancing, i’ve finally got a great core stable of clients who make my “day” work a joy and the opportunity for tons of private art commissions which just make life fun! So, i am not complaining about my life, just sharing the truth of it.

i feel, in part, that the time and hard work and all-nighters are all contributing to my moment. i know i will find my perfect place in this industry. i can almost taste it. i have no exact idea why. It’s just a feeling i have. i think that i have this new found positivity because i’ve (mostly) let go of the fear of disappointing others. Finally! i mean, really. Come on. Nobody is out there losing any sleep these days wishing i’d change my mind and go be a doctor tomorrow! Nobody cares! i’m not disappointing anyone! It’s only me. i’m afraid of disappointing me. And that’s the truth. Trying reveals only 2 possible outcomes; failing or succeeding.

So sorry Fear. I’ll take my shot. There’s nothing to lose, only to gain.

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…and ps ~ ALL of my friends and family have been hugely supportive since the shock wore off : )