I thought when I left the health care profession, I was through holding vigil for lists and waiting to see if my name would be on them – through with nursing boards, the UST Med entrance exam, and the Biochem pass list. Guess not!
And yet, this list means just as much to me as the others that came before. Perhaps more, because leaving the health care profession to become a writer has always meant each move had more at stake.
In the homily of the boyfriend’s 2012 nursing licensure exam send-off mass, the college regent said something that stuck with me:
Prayer is a sign of readiness.
When we ask for something, we are telling the Universe that we don’t just want it, but that we are ready for the responsibility that it entails.
During Fully Booked’s call last year for First Look Club members, I was just starting to consider writing as a career. I had a million doubts: Who the fuck was I, calling myself a writer? What right did I have to ask anyone to pick me to write for them? Why would anyone listen to my opinions?
I wasn’t ready, and it showed in my writing.
In the year in between then and now, I’ve probably written over a hundred different assignments. I’ve navigated working with amazing clients and awful ones, and I know the fair value of my work. I’ve sat on a panel for a writer screening process and know how I fare next to my peers. I still asked Who the fuck am I?, but I also more or less had answers.
This time, I knew that I at least had a shot.
Everything from my approach to attitude was different. More than just an outpouring of heart, I also tapped into every trick of the trade I’d learned this past year for my application. I studied current First Look Club reviews to see the kind of finished product they were looking for. I wrote, cut, and edited as ruthlessly and as lovingly as I have for all my jobs over the past year.
And every day after, I whispered to the Universe: Please let me have this. I am ready.
In mid-June, the announcement that one of my favorite brands was taking me on as a writer came on the heels of me computing my earnings for the month and finding that for the first time, I’ve matched (and exceeded) what I used to make at a regular job.
It’s exhilarating and yet incredibly humbling to feel like I’ve finally crossed the line between “trying to be a writer” and holding my head high and saying, “I AM a professional writer.”
I know it won’t be too long before I’ll question myself again, who the fuck am I, praying for so-and-so? But today I am content in what I have, because I know to a drop how much work I put in to deserve what I asked for.
And for what this entails, Universe, I am ready. □
Originally posted on June 13, 2018.