I am learning how to be a freelance writer. I am beginning from scratch. I will be forty years old in a few months, and I have given myself a deadline: to be fairly successful as a writer before I hit that date that says, “You are officially in midlife.”
When I was entering college, my father gave me an ultimatum – either I enroll in a hot paying course or I enroll in a school near our place so he can watch over me. The hot course at that time was physical therapy – guaranteed to give you a job in the USA. His land of dreams.
Of course, I chose to flunk the entrance exam for Physical Therapy. I would rather die. But the price I paid was stiff.
Instead of enrolling in the course I wanted (which was Mass Communications or Journalism), I ended up with Psychology.
Since I flunked the exam for Physical Therapy, I took the entrance exam for the school near our place: St. Scholastica’s College. Apparently, I placed high on the entrance test and was qualified for “The Honor’s Program”. This was a four year program where:
- You will graduate with three degrees; Psychology, Guidance Counseling and Human Resource Management
- You have to maintain a grade of 85 on all subjects. If you got two subjects below that, you are out. You will be a transferee.
- You only share your plight with a select few students – I had nine classmates.
- Of course, you will graduate with Honors, you dolt.
I thought saying “yes” to the Honor’s Program would please my dad. You see, I love/hate my dad. I will always love him and want his approval. He WOULD NEVER give it to me, dead or alive.
Backstory: I was born female. Only a male heir would do for a Chinese stud like him.
Backstory: Never in my life was I good enough for him. He’s dead now, but I still want him to love me.
And so my journey with psychology began.
After four grueling years in St. Scholastica’s College, I graduated cum laude with distinction. And because it was the trend to immediately pursue your Master’s degree or Masters in Business Administration degree for all of my nine other classmates, I entered the halls of University of Santo Tomas.
At that time, I fell madly in love with Clinical Psychology. Because I was flirting with anorexia, bulimia, and cutting.
(Yes, I was cutting, otherwise known as self-harming. If I was not cutting, I was exercising really intensely, or not sleeping enough. I had this thing with sadomasochism and self-punishment.)
I never believed I was good enough, dad.
I took my Masters in Clinical Psychology because I thought, if I studied Abnormal Psychology, I would better understand myself. I buried my writing skills under a ruble of academic papers. I did not believe I could ever be a published author. The best I could aspire to was to write reports, essays and research papers.
And so, here I am. Twenty years later.
Sure, I can write very compelling psychological reports, academic papers, essays, and theses. But what I really want to do is write non-fiction.
Meaning, not poems, not stories. Non-fiction pieces are about real people, real stories. Memoirs, that sort of thing.
When I dove under during my relapse, the only way I felt better was by writing. I wrote and wrote, and I healed myself.
(Note: I also had help with psychotherapy and nutrition counseling).
This now leads to me, nearing 40, realizing,
“I want to be a writer. I want to be a published author.”
And the road leading there is to practice, practice, practice.
Hence, this blog about Me and Anorexia.
Hence, my recent ventures applying for a writing job.
There is also another part of me, the practical part, the stay-at-home-mom part, who wanted to stay-at-home for the kids. And so, I asked myself,
“Why not be a freelance writer who works from home?”
Because I spent the whole of June this year applying and being rejected, I decided I needed a guide. I searched online, I messaged friends, and eventually, one of the people who interviewed me for a writing job referred me to
Julamar Grace Locsin and FVA.
I mentioned FVA in my last blog entry. Here, I give them proper credit.
Thank you, Julmar Grace and FVA. You helped me immensely. You got me to polish outdated techie skills and more importantly, you let me believe that my goal was achievable. That thousands of moms like me want to work from home, and there is a way how to do it. You gave me hope and you gave me the method.
Newly updated and beating a deadline (my 40th birthday), I am on my quest to be a freelance writer with an impressive portfolio. I am on board in Upwork, I have a few potential customers. And this morning, I have a job interview.
Wish me luck.
