Do we really have to have it all?

These past few weeks, I’ve been doing a little soul-searching. While I’m loving being a mummy to my now 9-month-old and 4-year-old (how did my little monkey grow up so fast?!), there is something distinctly lacking in my life.

On a daily basis, I think to myself ‘I did not sign up to be a housekeeper 24/7’, which is how I feel most days. Add to that a severe lack of sleep due to said 9-month-old still waking frequently at night and stealing much-needed rest away from me. It’s rare I get woken up only once in the night, on average it’s twice a night, and a lot of the time it’s before 6am. I don’t understand how anyone can function like this? And yet, on top of this, I’m looking at ways of working from home, as an aside from being a writer. Because, we all know, writing is a rewarding career choice, but it certainly isn’t a lucrative one. It’s been three years since I left the corporate world, and sometimes I find myself wishing I actually had a job, just so I could escape every now and then, to have time for me. You know – have a real excuse to get out of the house and do something that doesn’t revolve around nappies and food preparation and cleaning. Occasionally, I have to escape to the library, because things are too noisy at home. But as a writer, I feel as though it’s unjustified. Like what I’m doing is purely a hobby.

No, it is not a hobby. It is months and months of hard work, a lot of hope, a lot of rejection, and a lot of paranoia, with little reward at the end of it. So, what do I do? I look for other ways I can work from home and potentially earn some money. I have looked into working as a virtual assistant, where there is a whole heap of work available, providing someone is willing to give you a chance first. To be fair, I’ve only given it a few weeks so far, but while I’m juggling this, bringing up the girls, and trying to keep the house in order (easier said than done), I am running myself into the ground. So, last night, I picked up my journal, and a pen, and I sat down and I wrote. Real, dig-deep-into-my-thoughts writing. Something I haven’t done in over a year. And do you know what? I really enjoyed it. I realised that I’ve been neglecting that part of me that needs to write. I don’t know why. In some respects, I’ve been scared to tap into the creative side of me. And now that I’ve peeked in there, I can’t understand why I’ve neglected it for so long. I HAVE to do this. I made myself a promise years ago that writing was my chosen career path. Lots of things have got in the way of that, such as being pregnant twice, losing a baby and having a baby. Life has carried on, and I’ve had to move with it, and I’ve somehow lost sight of what it was I was supposed to be doing. Lack of confidence, perhaps? Too many life changes?

I don’t know what it is, but I do know that we should stop trying to have it all, find what it is that our hearts truly desire, the thing that makes our souls sing; and stick with it. And if we temporarily get sidetracked, it’s okay. Because the path you’re destined to take will still be there. I’m keeping faith in myself and my abilities, because writing IS my calling, and it makes me happy. It warms me like the sun on a summer’s eve, and it makes my soul glow.