I realized something horrifying the other day as I was looking for writing positions outside the home: I had painted myself into a proverbial corner, and the only way out was to write.
Mya looked around the table, though, she also saw her friends who had accomplished just as much as she had while finding time to date, form connections, marry, and have children. They were full entities, and Mya was still moving as a lone star. Bright like the north star, but alone nevertheless.
At first, stability looked like a steady job, a dependable paycheck, and the promise that if I worked hard enough, life would eventually feel secure. I followed the path that was taught to me.
