I write for a living

I write for a living. I write contracts, legal opinions, court petitions and reasoned decisions as a lawyer, litigator and adjudicator. I write thesis reviews, course curriculum and exams as a university level lecturer and thesis supervisor. I write reports, complaints reviews and policies as a policy and complaints officer. I write blogposts, ads and social media posts as a copywriter. I write flash fiction, short stories and chapters for several manuscripts I am working on. I write on a daily basis. I get paid for most of this writing that I do. And my writing has been published and read by several people for decades. My writing changes people's lives; people seek me specifically for my writing skills.

I write for a living. And yet, I don't feel like a writer. As yet I am to be caught thinking about myself as an author. You see, I have been brought up with a very narrow definition of writing. Writing only consists of long-form literary fiction and especially the type of fiction nobody wants to read let alone pay for. A writer, as a consequence, cannot provide for herself and lives with her parents, unable to even afford the paper she needs to write her dense fiction on. A writer is a failure at life and therefore extremely unhappy. Clearly not a suitable outcome for me, who was clothed like a fashionista, fed like a gourmand and afforded the highest level of education possible with all the professional opportunities that come with it. If I insisted that I must write, I better make sure the writing fits with acceptable titles such as 'lawyer', 'accountant', 'CEO' and comes with overflowing buckets of money that are immediately spent on fast cars, high heels and heavy bling. And if I must be a rebel, make sure the writing can be categorized as 'copy' or 'technical writing' alongside a worthwhile pursuit like raising a family. And if I must suffer for my art, I better choose suffering that is easily recognisable as 'teaching' or 'policy' and involves a lot of hard work with little to show for. 

I write for a living. And none of my failures in life can be attributed to writing or pursuing the life of a writer. Rather, my extreme unhappiness came from being a lawyer at a top-tier law firm and the need for me to always be at peak performance. The car, the heels and the bling filled my chest with sensations; not from exhilaration, but from heart palpitations. True to their word, when I decided to trade in my black gown for jeans and flip-flops and pursue my lesser dream of writing copy for magazines and newspapers, my parents encouraged me to do the mature thing and settle down with a respectable partner (note: not the person I was dating, but this other person who was much more sociable and well-connected on the island). By the time it became clear that the connections were less robust and the nature of said partner less sociable than previously thought, my parents were knee-deep in an ugly divorce resulting in several scandals in our small community and nobody really paid attention to the next generation that was being born in this family to continue carrying the burdens of the previous generations. I sought refuge in teaching and drafting policy alongside legal consultancy working round the clock only to watch the money in my bank account evaporate as soon as it hit.

I write for a living. And in order to prove that to myself, I took two weeks off during the holiday season of 2023 to write a novella. I did. And it was hard. Not the writing - as soon as I allowed the words to flow, they came naturally - but the putting-my-foot-down part. I realised that I already had all the ingredients to live my best life and a state-of-the-art kitchen to cook it all up, but I was standing by while other people had free reign of the pantry, fridge, stove and oven. They fried, baked and grilled to their hearts' content, while I was patiently waiting to clean the mess after imagining all the lovely meals and desserts I could have enjoyed. I decided to take back control. First, I took responsibility for my mess and dropped other people's responsibilities I was carrying. That gave me more freedom to move. Next, I implemented a door policy, letting fewer and fewer people in. Subsequently, I decluttered. I let go of excesses that were not my choice in the first place or that I no longer wished to have in my life. Lastly, I chose a different kitchen all together, taking only those things that are needed to build the life that I want to live.

I write for a living. And although I wish I had the courage to set aside more time for writing fiction, I am writing more of the words that give me energy. Although I am restricted by custody disputes and expensive court proceedings, I sometimes get to explore parts of the world with my favorite little human and we make sure we capture all the beauty through our art. Although some days are harder than others, I do prioritise my life goals and make sure that my feet are firmly planted on the ground.

I write for a living and therefore I am a writer.