There's always been this problem. I've consoled myself by saying it's what comes of being a multi-talented person, good at many things. I should have committed to dance, I love it and I could have gotten better at it. I should have committed to English, I love literature and thinking analytically about media and theory. But there's always something tapping at my shoulder - you could sing/you could act/you could become an IAS officer/you're never going to be able to write a novel anyway/you'll have to come home by 8 anyway/you will fail. Result - I've ended up pursuing nothing, feeling like I've ended up doing nothing. I'm just going to be another bleh academic sitting in a corner occasionally thinking she's important in that corner.
I've tried my hand at most things. I've enjoyed them and liked them enough to want to go further, not stay casual. But it's never been feasible, too many things in my head and home holding me back. It's taken awhile in my head to break out of the idea of the straight and narrow life, progressing through officejob and savings and house and marriage and settlingdown and reproducing and dying.
It's not too late, I'm under no ageist illusions of that sort. And I have a chance now - to give my heart and word to something that I never anticipated or dreamed would come to me, and I could take it, but there's a tapping on my shoulder. Maybe there's something better, something easier still waiting; maybe committing will only lead to nothing.
I've tried my hand at most things. I've enjoyed them and liked them enough to want to go further, not stay casual. But it's never been feasible, too many things in my head and home holding me back. It's taken awhile in my head to break out of the idea of the straight and narrow life, progressing through officejob and savings and house and marriage and settlingdown and reproducing and dying.
It's not too late, I'm under no ageist illusions of that sort. And I have a chance now - to give my heart and word to something that I never anticipated or dreamed would come to me, and I could take it, but there's a tapping on my shoulder. Maybe there's something better, something easier still waiting; maybe committing will only lead to nothing.
