Once in a while, admitting that I’m an aspiring writer makes me feel ashamed. It doesn’t happen often; most of the time, I’m proud to own my ambitions and my hopes. But sometimes, especially with family, I feel that my hopes are unrealistic, pipe-dreams, and that I should grow up and do something more productive with my life.
I spent last weekend in the Black Hills, where I grew up, at my parents’ home. It was a fairly nice visit; the scenery is lovely, and the smell of the pine trees is what always comes to mind when I think of “home.” My parents, though, while they are lovely people, are so different from me that I sometimes wonder how they managed to produce me. They are extremely conservative, not particularly well-read, and their love of art and literature stops at Thomas Kincaid and Louis L’Amour. It isn’t snobbery that prompts me to point this out; it’s just one of many examples of the ways in which we are different.
They asked me, over breakfast on the morning I was leaving, what my plans were for the fall. I work part-time as a writing and ESL tutor at a state university, and I’m planning to start work on my master’s degree; I mentioned that I would be taking some classes, as well as continue to write.
My mother asked me, “Don’t you think it’s time to think about getting a full-time job?”
I said no. I told them about the writing grants that I’m applying for, the magazines and journals that I’m sending stories to, and I talked a little about my unfinished novel. I said that as long as working part-time was adequate, along with my husband’s salary, that I would continue to write as much as I could.
My father told me it was time for me to grow up, to stop putting such a heavy burden on my husband’s shoulders. My sister, who had stayed out of the conversation until then, nodded, and said that her ex-husband would never have let her take advantage of him like that.
I didn’t know how to reply. So I left the room, and went into the woods with my notebook and my pen.
I feel the same way sometimes. Embarrassed that I want to be a “writer”. But I really try not to let what other people think hinder what I do. ANd I admit I have been lax about writing lately because of those very things. So, I blog. But, I understand what you are saying. You’re not alone.
Don’t listen to them. They’re not writers and don’t understand what it’s like to have to write. You’re doing the right thing by following your dream. Keep it up!
My parents have many flaws, but they are always supportive of me. As far as being a burden to your husband goes, who are they to say such a thing? Do they pay your bills? Does your husband complain about it to them? My husband prefers my working at home (writing), and volunteering my time. He appreciates my availability to our children, and never complains about working hard to pay the bills on his own (EVER). I’ve often been the one feeling guilty, but hubby inspires me to keep at the dream. So I say to you……Keep writing, you are very good at it!!!! When you are a published author and making a good living, you can rub it in to the unsupportive nay sayers.