When I found out I was expecting my first child, a wave of realization washed over me. It wasn’t just about the changes to my body or the miraculous ability to nourish a tiny human. It hit me that once my baby arrived, my life would revolve around their needs, and my own desires and dreams would take a backseat.
As a child, I envisioned a life filled with adventure—living on a sprawling ranch, surrounded by animals, and having endless access to ice cream. Fast forward to my adulthood, and my aspirations had matured. I longed to split my time between sunny California and Hawaii, dreamt of writing books, and sought a life rich with friendships and experiences.
Before my daughter was born, I had a clear vision of becoming a successful author. After her arrival, my determination only intensified. Yet, I grappled with the feeling that my dreams paled in comparison to her existence. I thought that nurturing her dreams would take precedence over my own. My focus shifted entirely to her well-being, and I believed my ambitions would have to wait until she was well on her way in life.
When I entered Pitch Wars, a prestigious writing contest, I felt a spark of hope. Perhaps my years of hard work would finally yield results. If I succeeded, I could contribute financially to my family, making my writing endeavors feel less like a luxury and more like a viable career. I envisioned hiring a babysitter to carve out more time for writing without the guilt that accompanied it.
However, after months of editing and dedication, I faced a series of rejections from agents. It was disheartening to hear feedback that my work lacked certain elements or that it might not resonate with readers. Although I received encouraging words from some agents, the absence of representation made me question whether pursuing my passion was worth the time away from my children.
As I wrestled with the guilt of not spending every moment with my kids, I realized that my time spent writing was essential for my well-being. Without it, I felt anxious and less present. I began to wonder why being a stay-at-home mom, an opportunity I cherished, didn’t seem fulfilling enough.
During a family vacation, a friend shared his insight about raising happy, successful children. He emphasized that it’s not about the schools they attend or the wealth their parents possess; rather, it’s about the example we set. This struck a chord with me. By not pursuing my dreams, I risked teaching my children that giving up is acceptable if immediate rewards aren’t visible.
Upon returning home, I reignited my passion. If I wanted my children to chase their dreams, I needed to model that behavior. I realized that my ambitions were not just for me but also for them. They needed to see that hard work, perseverance, and following one’s passions are vital lessons in life.
My children’s needs will always come first. I will always prioritize their safety and happiness. But by pursuing my own ambitions, I am crafting a roadmap for them—a guide to achieving their own dreams, no matter how daunting they may seem.
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In summary, pursuing my passion not only fulfills me but also sets a powerful example for my children. I hope to inspire them to chase their dreams bravely and passionately, knowing they have a role model in their corner.