A lot of what has paid my bills and changed my life came from things I was told were impractical.
Poetry.
Photography.
Storytelling.
Community work.
The arts.
When I was younger, I internalized a lot of messages that these things were hobbies, distractions, or wastes of time.
But the receipts tell a different story.
Photography paid my bills.
Poetry introduced me to lifelong friends and mentors.
Storytelling opened doors to fellowships, grants, speaking opportunities, and community.
At 17, I randomly stumbled into a poetry space at Bumbershoot and it changed the trajectory of my life.
I had no idea at the time.
That’s the strange thing about life. Sometimes the moments that shape us don’t look important when they’re happening.
I’ve also been grieving recently.
Not just the loss of my mom, but the realization that some of the people I expected to support me didn’t.
That grief has made me question a lot.
But it’s also reminded me of something:
The people who truly saw me were often the ones encouraging me to become more of myself, not less.
The lesson I’m sitting with today:
Not every path makes sense to everyone.
Sometimes your calling looks like a waste of time until years later when you realize it was quietly building the foundation for everything.
For now, I’m choosing to trust the evidence of my own life.
🖤