I’ve been wanting to write something to explain who I am, what I do and, most importantly, why I do it for some time now. I haven’t because the answers aren’t pretty, easy to ready, let alone write. Do I really want to create something intimate and personal, then put it on the internet?
I told myself no, that this was too much and no one would care. That, more than anything, held my hand as it would be painful to find out no one really gives a shit. The more I write, though, the more I realize I do this for me. Sure, the post views are nice, but I create for me.
For the first time in my life, I am proud of something that I’ve accomplished. That’s why I never want to stop blogging, or podcasting. That’s why I am going back to school for a journalism degree. That is why I do what I do and yet, I haven’t told my family. Partially it’s because my podcast is raunchy and they don’t know I’m bisexual, but really it’s because they have never been supportive of anything that doesn’t follow their vision of normal.
In the past, I have spoken of dreams or goals that, to them, were unrealistic or too difficult to achieve. Once upon a time, I wanted a PH.D in marine biology with which I could study sharks and teach at the Univercity of Hawaii. I was 18 and I knew how hard that path would be, but I wanted it bad enough to work my ass off and give up the next ten years of my life for it. My family, for all that they truly love me, told me over and over how this was such a horrible idea, how I would go no where and end up poor.
Poor. The connotation for my family is that to be poor is weakness. It is failure. I didn’t want to disappoint them, I didn’t want to be poor. I changed my major, I changed the school I would attend, but I didn’t want any of it. Two years later, I sabotaged my family’s dreams and dropped out of college. I became poor.
This event was neither the first or last time their certainty in my failure would turn my dreams into ashes, but it was the first time I fought against what I didn’t want. I can’t say I did it consciously, or even that I did it the best way I could, but I did it. That was when I latched onto the concept of independence, of doing things on my own and even still I can’t let go of that, but I can finally say what I want and what they want for me will never be the same. I desire greatness. My family, who loves me, wants only better than average and easily attainable.
I do not have the greatness I want, but I am not normal. I am a bisexual, pot smoking, gaming chick. I am a recovering victim of sexual abuse. I am a 26 year old, single, college drop out making $45,000 a year and buying my very first house. Maybe that’s normal, but I don’t think so. I have all this, but I want more.
I want to be invited to E3, the Tokyo Game Show, and other trade shows because of my work on my blog and the 5wowthings podcast. Do I realize how hard and unlikely this is? YES, but I want it and I’m willing to work hard to get it.
But what happens when I tell my family about this thing that I am so proud of? Together, will we sabotage my dreams again? That’s what I’m afraid of, but I don’t want to be afraid any more. I’m proud of this and I don’t care who knows. But I’ve said that to myself before.