The places you have come to fear the most.

I've wanted to be an author for as long as I can remember. 

When I graduated college last May, I decided not to pursue employment, but to focus instead on my dream of writing and publishing a novel.

I expected it to be exciting, challenging and frustrating. 
I knew I would face rejection.

Lots of rejection.

But what I didn't expect to face was doubt in my decision and in my own self-worth.

Don't get me wrong - I believe I possess many worthy qualities.

I think I'm kind, creative, funny, interesting, smart and driven.

But sometimes -
when someone asks me where I work and I have to tell them that, technically, I'm unemployed,
or as I watch my friends begin their responsible, adult careers
or see Ryan leave for work each day while I stay at home, making up stories
- I start thinking about how I'm perceived by the rest of the world.
And I think about how I perceive myself.
Ten or twenty years from now,
will I be proud of the risk I'm taking in trying to "make it" as a writer,
or will I wish I'd gotten a full-time job with my English degree?
As much as I care about the opinions of other people (I care too much)

I think I can tolerate disappointing others.
What I'm deeply afraid of is feeling like I've failed myself.
Because how exactly do you measure success?

 I dedicate hours each day to my writing,
but if my writing never reaches another person's eyes, is that success?

If I never make a cent off of my stories,
will I feel like it was worthwhile to spend my life writing them?

I'm torn.
Lately, I've been struggling to articulate what it is that I want out of my life, professionally.

I know I want to contribute something meaningful to the world.

I want people to read my stories and to learn something from them.

But I have difficulty pinpointing my specific goals.

Would publishing one novel be enough for me to consider myself successful?

Would it matter to me how many people read it?
What if my work is never strong enough to be published at all?

I'm not sure what I want to achieve, specifically,
but I do know I want to play a part in the literary world.

I started writing this post two days ago, after being rejected by two graduate programs and accepted by one whose tuition was so expensive I knew I wouldn't be able to attend.
Yesterday I found out that
I've been accepted into the MFA Creative Writing program at
Antioch University Los Angeles.
Not only am I thrilled to be able to further my education and to work with other writers,
but I feel so reassured knowing that there are other people in this field
 who think my fiction is promising.
It came as a boost of confidence when I was wallowing in self-doubt.

Of course, I still have fears regarding my career path.
I'm terrified to be spending thousands of dollars on an education that
won't guarantee I get a job or get published.
I'm scared that by going to graduate school, I may be selfishly pushing back our dreams of
buying our own home and of starting a family.
Though he whole-heartedly supports my decision to be a writer and to attend grad school,
I'm afraid I'm putting too much pressure on Ryan by relying on him to be the sole provider
for us in this very expensive new state.
But new journeys are always scary, right?
And if I'm really committed to following my dream of becoming an author and a
professor of creative writing, this is a journey I need to embark upon,
no matter how scared I am.
I'm sure it will be awhile before I stop wondering if pursuing my writing was the right decision.
And I'm positive I'm going to experience many more rejections before I get published.
But writing is where I feel most in my element.
It's what makes me happy.
I think Joseph Campbell said it best in my favorite quote:

Follow your bliss.