When I was younger, my dream was to become a witch … and I’m really only halfway there. When I was a bit older and realised that I really liked writing, and it was something that I was good at, then that became my dream. And it’s still my dream, I want to be an author. Although, it’s become less of a dream and more like a goal now that I’ve been actually taking steps towards it, which I think is a good thing.

Sometimes, though, I get caught up with my goal and wonder if it really is just a dream. I once had a significant person of mine refer to my writing as a “pipe-dream” and for a while I just couldn’t write anything. I kind of felt dead inside. Now that I’ve been to university for writing and have more of an understanding of the industry … I do feel the reality of those words sometimes. They’ve since rescinded the sentiment, but it did leave a bit of a scar. I don’t think about those words much, and they encourage my writing a lot now, but I do think of feeling. That sensation of “maybe I’m just chasing my tail?”. I know I’m not the most fantastic writer, but the issue is that this is really the only thing that I’m completely passionate for. I love a lot of things, but this is my end goal. And so I think a lot of my lack of driving forward is based in those fears and self-sabotage.

“Don’t go to workshops because they’ll laugh at you” “don’t go to events because you don’t know anything” “don’t submit to competitions because you’re writing isn’t worth it” “don’t submit to a publisher because none of them want it”

It’s always easier to recognise that little voice in your head and tell them to shush for a bit, but they’re kind of like a child, in that they don’t always listen. It’s not helped by my willingness to adapt and become complacent, but as I get older, and I realise that I can have the things that I want, that I can be healthy and without the toxicity of those people who stuck needles in me as a child (and even as a young adult). I’m healing and coming to terms with my shortcomings and all of the mental baggage I’ve accumulated over the years, wrangling them into something better and wrapping them up into neat presents that I’m leaving behind for the child in me, so they can follow the same path as the adult in me. But then again, I really am just both of those people.

If you want it, you need to work for it. If you want it, but you don’t think you can have it, still put the work in. You’ll never get anywhere if you’re not moving forward. Even if your only option is to fail at first, you’re moving forward. And failing hurts, but it means you tried.