I’ve been struggling lately with my job. I’ve been contemplating whether it is still the job I want and need to do.
And then I come to SHOULD.
Should I work for myself? Should I be a YouTuber? Should I have a real job? Should I work a 9-5?
I hate to be shoulded on. I hate when society and others tell me what I SHOULD do.
I try to turn it into want and need.
Do I want to work for myself?
Do I need to be a YouTuber?
Do I want a real job (is this not a real job?).
Do I need a 9-5?
Also I hate writing. I’m dyslexic so it never came naturally to me. It was hard to write a book when writing is so foreign to me. But the content was not. The book is full of me, and I know me. Well, at least I have dedicated the last 15 years to trying to know and understand me.
That’s what my book, Discovering My Scars, is about. Me. But maybe you too. It’s interesting that the more I learn others’ truth, the more I see my own in theirs. Truth is hard. Truth hurts. But Truth has set me free.
I’m struggling with my job. I’m an online content creator, making DIY videos for homeowners with my mom at Mother Daughter Projects.
It brings me joy when someone finds our videos and is able to do the project for themselves. It beings me joy when a single mom is able to do the project that she never thought she could. It brings me joy when a guy listens to two ladies teach him how to fix that thing, and now he can. The countless comments are validation to why this is my job.
But then there are the hate comments. The ones that make fun of how I pronounce things. These make me question WHY. The comments that tell us to get back in the kitchen and make a man a sandwich, the sexual comments, and the “your an idiot” comments continue to bring to question, should I go on?
Every piece of content I put out is a piece of me. It all took time, thought, and effort to release into the world.
If I went back to 9-5, I wouldn’t put that content out. I could keep all those parts of me inside, not to be released to the world.
But does releasing myself into the world give me life? Does it keep me alive to share those parts of me?
If I had a dollar for every time I questioned my job, I wouldn’t have to question it anymore cause I could be rich. But I don’t want to be rich. I just want to live a simple life, be able to buy the things I need, and live comfortably.
Can this job create that life? Has this job created that life?
I guess we will have to wait and see.