After pondering on weeks on end and then tripping over this article from tinybuddha.com, I can finally muster the courage to say that “My quarter-life crisis has been solved“.
Surprisingly, the said article coincided with my theory of social brainwashing; in which getting more people informed of a plan would increase the likelihood of it materializing compared as to keeping it as a secret and then dropping the bomb to surprise humanity. This theory of mine debuted at the first part of my To Canada, I will go series, and man, did I get the response I was expecting.
The article said that to make your passion your career, first is to tell one stranger (I already did) then obsess over it, but I won’t stop at that.
So without further ado, let me tell more strangers.
I WANT TO BE A WRITER
I think you know when you have found your passion. It is something you have to do, like breathe or eat. And looking back, I found out that I never stopped writing. I could not remember exactly how it all started, but my studies, my getaway with friends, my hospital duties, did not stop me from creating masterpieces out of words. From Junior Writer, Associate Editor, Editor in Chief, National Awardee for News and Feature Writing, Philippine Daily Inquirer Youngblood Contributor, to self-proclaimed awesome blogger: there were actual signs my entire life but I was either too blind or too scared to recognize them. Luckily, I now learn I have prowess in News, Feature, and Editorial Writing: I am for the newspaper, not for the metal charts.
In 2006, when I was forced to take up BS Nursing, I also took up the responsibility of bringing titanic sums of money to my family’s bank account (read: bogus, meager salary). I carried that responsibility to my graduation day, oath-taking ceremony, until I became a full-pledged nurse. Whenever people asked me if I am happy with my profession, I firmly say No without thinking twice.
Their next question would be:
“So what do you want to be now? Be a journalist? You were always good at that!”
My answer was always “I am a nurse now, I want to be rich. Writing is just a hobby“.
I guess I was too scared, until today. I thought I could forever make myself believe that I can learn to love Nursing because I dream of a good life for my family, but the feeling of emptiness lingers. I found out I can never be proclaimed a saint, because I am no martyr. Yes, it is heartwarming to see patients go home recovered, but the feeling is no match to the joy of doing what you love. I know that writing is not as important as saving lives, but to me and to a lot of others who were deprived of their passion, even the most heroic of jobs does not mean a thing.
I got sentimental reading all my published works and thinking how could I belittle my talent when in fact I was one who was always oozing with confidence? The national papers should have a look at my works because such talent should not hide in scrubs; such talent should be out chasing stories and beating deadlines.
I am just glad that the Lord answered my prayer and ended this crisis. Now I have better sleep, less migraine attacks, and more enthusiasm to face life.
I know it isn’t practical yet to enroll for BA Journalism with all my siblings still studying but I know my time will come. I will stay being a nurse for now but I swear I will never forget the ultimate purpose I was created for: to write and to be read. As long as the world is not ending yet, I will never lose hope. I will get that byline someday.
I don’t care how long, no matter how hard it will take, how poor I’m going to be, or even if my future classmates are half my age. One thing is for sure, I won’t let life push me into the adult I don’t want to be without a bloody fight.