I hate having "The Talk." Seriously. It annoys me to the point of being a teenager again. Sadly, meeting up with old (albeit, older) friends, people you haven't seen in awhile who are of a certain age, etc, usually involves having "The Talk."
I should probably explain myself. Which "Talk" I'm referring to. This kind of stems back to my previous post about what I wanted to be as a grown up. When I tell people that I am a writer and completing my first novel, the first question is always, "How are you going to live off that?" Followed shortly thereafter by "How are you handling your student loans?"
Talking about this, honestly, makes me anxious. My professional life choices and my finances are deeply personal (money! Hello!). I don't like talking about it. Especially to people who don't understand. When I tell them that I'm working hard to get through it, but writing is my passion, I usually get "The Look" that goes along with "The Talk." Said "Look" is usually a mixture of 'OMGSERIOUSLY?!' and disdain. I then get asked how old I am. You can see why this upsets me. First, I'm making the 'wrong' life choices, followed by the realization that I'm not making them on some preconceived BS timeline that doesn't actually exist.
I hate explaining myself. It's why I almost failed geometry and chemistry. Why couldn't the answer just add up? Why did I have to explain my findings?
When I explain myself, I'm putting myself out there for people to judge ME. My person. My opinions and ideologies. If these people had their way, I'd be married with no student loans (don't get me wrong. Sounds peachy to me too, BUT). I chose to go to an expensive school. Occasionally I regret it, but then I remember the wonderful (and yes, not so wonderful) experiences and people I met there. It honestly opened me up to a whole new world, cheesy as that sounds. I'm now having to handle the ramifications of my choices, and that is fine with me. But it isn't fine with other people. It's like a buttinsky culture of having to know every little detail of someone's life.
I had to explain my reasons for wanting to move to Colorado. Apparently, the beautiful weather, athletic opportunities and family and best friends being there aren't reason enough to move. It's a nice place to visit, but this is where I was born, and this is where I should stay. This has seriously been grating on my nerves since Sunday.
I love Colorado. I got my first really good experience there in 2006 when I went out there for Spring Break with my friend, Kristen. Four years later, I went back to visit my best friend, Lauren, and take a road trip to Santa Fe. The following year, I returned for a weekend visit and it really cemented how much I loved it and how much I wanted to live there.
I'm not saying that I won't have my share of heart ache there, but I've been feeling God's pull for me to move there for over a year, now. I'm waiting on His timing, and I know that completing the book is the first step in a line of things that needs to be done before I can go. I have so much faith in this book and series. I believe that they are good stories and enjoyable characters. Could I be wrong? Absolutely. But I don't take nearly enough risk in my life.
I don't like to give reasons, but those are my reasons for wanting to be a writer and for wanting to move. Take them. Leave them. Take me. Leave me. It's not up to me.