A Dream Part 2

So, after several years in medicine, hating my job and wishing to write, I finally quit. At that point, my highest goal was to take care of my children and enjoy motherhood. Things were better then, and they are better now, but still there was the matter of that dream of writing. Eventually, my children will be older and in school, and I will need to go back to work. There’s no possibility of my returning to medicine. I learned my lesson there, and I burned some bridges when I left. For all the advances women have made in the workplace, there’s not a lot of forgiveness for women who leave it to take care of their children. I am now in the position that I was in college, choosing a path. Unlike then, I do not intend to ignore my dreams in favor of practicality. I have a husband who will support me, and so I can afford to pursue them. Without him, yes, I’d have to be more pragmatic. In fact, I’d probably go back groveling into medicine.

I spent years wishing I could write. Even while I was in medical school and residency, it was in the back of my mind- if only I could do that instead.  Leaving medicine didn’t solve the problems of shyness and lack of courage or confidence. I thought there was no way I could do better than hope to write. I walked into the library or bookstore and saw so many books, by so many authors. What could I do that was different? What could I say that they hadn’t already? And how could I hope to say it as well as they did? And on top of all that, isn’t everyone who isn’t already among that elite of published authors “working on” their first novel? It sure seems that way sometimes.

I don’t have the answers to those questions. I may very well never find the time to finish what I’ve started, let alone the daring to submit it or the talent to get it published. But at this point, after these years of waiting, I can’t even dream of it anymore if I don’t try.


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