Struggling for Your Craft

When I chanced upon Mark Manson’s The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, I came to the conclusion that there are only three things I am willing to struggle for: my tribe, my craft, and finding a decent cup of coffee.

But who am I kidding? Going after what you love with everything you have is brave and, at times, insane. You may have all heard a slightly different version of my story before.

To give you a little background context, in my early 20s, I was lucky to have landed a stable and well-paying job straight out of university, a job I was really good at with a team I enjoyed working with. I climbed my way up the corporate ladder relatively quickly and had the comforts others my age could only dream of. It all seemed perfect, the world’s definition of career success — except I wasn’t completely happy.

See, I had a little secret. Somewhere buried beneath my tailored clothes, my carefully pinned hair and high heels, there was a scruffy introverted artist. All I ever really wanted was to let my long hair down, spend my days at the beach, write for a living, play some music, and paint my heart out. But I buried it all away and locked all my brushes in a toolbox for 6 years because I made a choice to go corporate instead.

I fell in love with art at the age of five. Back then I was always on my sketchbook drawing portraits, landscapes, and seascapes. I was also always drawn to writing. I love writing poems and essays. My family is obsessed with music and so it didn’t take long for me to learn how to play the guitar. I formed a band right after high school and played music. I was really happy. These were things that always felt easy and natural for me. And although my parents supported me as best as they could, I could tell it wasn’t the life they wanted for me. I never blamed them. Becoming a free spirit wasn’t the usual path for people my age. I was young, I did really well at school, I had so much ahead of me. Being the youngest in the family and the quintessential rebel, I had a lot to prove.

And so I made a choice. I took the corporate path after university instead.

Looking back, I have no regrets. I might have made a detour but I learned so much and faced my fears in a way I could never have done otherwise. I met lifelong friends and found my confidence. It awakened a passion for learning that still drives me today.

So how did I end up in the crossroad? The answer is simple and a bit archaic. It took motherhood to inspire my own rebirth (pun intended).

After my daughter was born, I was finally given a long time off to pause and think about my life. Heck, I finally had time to clean the house and arrange my shoes. I discovered several boxes of wedding presents I haven’t even opened yet because my corporate job was extremely hectic and I was always tired. In a way, my maternity leave was the best thing that ever happened to me. It gave me the chance to re-assess and decide what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

That moment of revelation came rushing to me while I was spending time with my daughter. As fate would have it, she was drawn to art like me. While coloring and painting with her, I realized how much I missed it. It all came back to me. Her innate sense of joy at working with colors rubbed off on me and I took out all my old sketchbooks and started painting again. My daughter, Mia, is my muse.

Heading back to work after my leave was fairly difficult. I hated being away from my daughter and I found that everything has changed. I wasn’t the same anymore. It didn’t feel right to go back and I resented having to wear heels again. It took me so long to rediscover myself, and I didn’t want to just let it go again. So after a few months of thinking and reassessing, I finally decided to quit my corporate job to take care of my daughter and pursue my passions.

I had enough savings to give me some time to hunt for my ideal job, one that would allow me to own my time so I can write, make art, and play music again. In that waiting period, I focused on my art and joined exhibits. I reconnected with my old art friends and peers. I played music with my old band. I felt free, happy, and satisfied in a way I haven’t felt in years.

“It’s never too late to be who you might have been.” —George Eliot

Making a career shift at that stage in my life was a case of better late than never. Although it worked well on my behalf, I don’t recommend jumping into life-changing decisions without thinking carefully about the consequences. I spent two months mulling it over with my long pro-con list, and then another three months preparing for it. I had a baby to think about. It was extremely difficult to let go of my stable pay. And so I made sure I had enough savings to cover me in this period of transformation.

It’s been four years since I made the shift. Did I regret it? Not in the least. Was it easy to pursue my passions? Heck, no. It was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.

At some point, I struggled with finances in between work while freelancing and I had so much to learn and adjust to. Self-employment has its perks but it also requires you to own your time, to develop a laser focus in the face of a million distractions, and learn to be responsible for your own taxes — something I never had to do on my own before. I had to learn all of that and struggled my way through. I had to sacrifice some conveniences I used to enjoy with my corporate job. We had to cut down our budget as a family. It was a trying time and I’m grateful for the support I got from my family.

Self-doubt creeps in and whacks me in the head sometimes. Fighting my fears is perhaps the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I made a choice to do this and I willed myself to soldier on no matter what. Little by little, I found my groove. After months of searching, I found the perfect remote work that allowed me to write, create, and collaborate like never before. Now I own my time and never have to feel guilty about being away from my family. And I’ve never felt more free, as happy, or as fulfilled as I do now and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.

I have the utmost respect for all career moms out there. I know the sacrifices they have to make every single day because I’ve been there. And if you’re a mom reading this, I’m not saying my path is the right path for you. You can make your own path — one that makes sense for you.

The Final Battle

For years, I listened to voices that kept telling me I can’t sustain this path, that “following my passion” is crazy. And they’re right. It is crazy if you don’t plan for it. It is crazy if you make decisions from a whim with no end goal in sight. Maybe I was a little mad at first. And that’s okay…because I’ve always had a clear picture of who I wanted to be and I know I will pursue that relentlessly. Besides, what kind of adventure would it be if you never had to struggle for what you love?

The struggle, the toil, and the grit are what completes your transformation. Within that time of struggle and self-doubt, you find out who you really are. It brings focus, it strengthens you, and it clarifies your path.

In the long run, if you’re not willing to suffer for your craft, if you’re too afraid to rage on through the dark times, if uncertainty scares you too much, then at least you find out that it really doesn’t matter to you as much as you thought it did. And you’re better off doing something else.

Not a lot of people will understand but the phrase “Art is pain” is so true in many ways… because to chase your passion, your art, your craft, whatever it is that sets your soul on fire, means having the courage to embrace the struggle. No matter how long it takes.

So cheers to the struggle! Come 2019, I hope we all find the courage to quietly rage on.