I guess there are some truths that we've gotta accept about ourselves.
Like me, for instance.
I'm not a marketer or an advertiser. I'm a writer.
I stitch words into sentences with hopes of conveying a message that's filled with some form of meaning. I don't stitch measly words just to sell a product. That's not me. That has never been me. So I ask myself, what happened? What happened between the time when I was fresh out of college and ready to be a writer and conquer the world? What happened when I did eventually become a writer for a magazine that I didn't really wanna work for? And now, I'm asking myself how did I end up as a marketing/advertising creative where there seems to be no meaning in the copy that I write for clients.
I guess I've had enough but truth to be told, I feel stuck. I feel like there is something in me that needs to burst forth. Something that has been hidden for a long period of time. Maybe that's why I started this blog, so that I could reconnect with myself as a writer. I'm a writer. I've always been a writer since I was eleven. Writing, to me, was like breathing. I made up my mind that I was gonna be a writer when I first flipped the pages of Seventeen when I was secretly reading it in high school.
If writing was like breathing to me, why do I struggle so much in the office? Why do I struggle to fork out copy for brands that I feel nothing for? How did I end up circling myself in this line called advertising?
I want to believe that dreams come true. I want to believe that I will be a features writer or a features editor of a high profile fashion & lifestyle magazine. But when I think about it, it all seems so far away. Like a dream that will only retain itself in the dusty corner of my brain. People say that writing doesn't not pay the bills. Who cares about what people think? I've come to accept that writing is an art form that will always be undervalued, underpaid and underestimated. Writing has changed the world yet people refuse to acknowledge its power. I don't need to start on writers who have changed the world with their books, articles and periodicals because it's all out there.
I made a mistake. But at least I've accepted the truth.
Will I ever make it to being a features editor of a magazine? I don't know but I want to believe that I will make it one day. As for now, I press on and do whatever I can to never let that precious dream die because I know that I will sorely regret it.
What is it that you've been hiding lately?
Maybe it's time to look deep into yourself and accept the parts that were meant to be.
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