Before I say anything else, I have to tell you, I really enjoy where I'm at in my life. Most days I get to stay home with my kids, who range from 22 months to 10 years old. We keep busy. I have a very part-time job that I don't mind at all. It's like free time for me, a place I can earn extra money and do a lot of thinking about my stories, which is awesome. I get to write a good deal. I don't have a routine because of the little one not being in school yet, but I have a supportive hubby who tries to make time for me to read and write.
But when I was younger, already knowing I wanted to be a writer when I grew up, my dreams didn't exactly align with reality. This was also back when there wasn't really social networking. No Facebook, no Goodreads. We had ghetto computers and *gasp* we couldn't even TEXT MESSAGE people.
My writing dream went something like...I'd wake up in the morning, in my mountain home. I'd get my coffee and brainstorm while looking out a bay window and watching a deer meander amongst the Aspens. Still in my pajamas, I'd sit down to write for hours, loving every word, no writers block, no distractions. I'd send my story off to an editor and they'd love it, and they'd publish my book, and I'd write another while getting occasional fan mail--not e-mail, of course. Snail mail. My adoring fans sent snail mail
The reality of it all? I'm changing diapers while trying to fit editing into my day before I can even submit to publishers. I'm trying to stay connected to other writers and read as many books as possible so what I write is current. I'm trying to fit writing into my day so I can make progress on something new.
But you know what?
I still love it. Writing is still my dream job even if deer and Aspen trees and snail mail are not involved. I still do it when diapers ARE involved.
The moral of the story?
Enjoy where you're at.
It might not be what you envisioned, but it's a step in the direction you're headed. Every moment we're at is going to have challenges so we might as well take away the good things, too, and appreciate that step.
Whether you wanted to be a writer when you got older or something else, what did your dream look like? Are you still working toward your dream?