When I was a child, I had a hard time expressing myself. I was introverted and shy and afraid of what people would think of me if I spoke up. I thought they would judge me harshly if I revealed too much of myself.
So, I turned to writing whenever I needed to say what was on my mind.
I’d write notes to my parents, telling them what made me excited or happy or scared. I remember one time, I did something mean to my dog, and I wrote him a note to tell him I was sorry. I started keeping a diary to write about my friends or how I obsessed I was with Britney Spears.
In the fifth grade, I joined our school newspaper, Cougar Tracks. I wrote stories about what was going on in school. My dad was excited to see my articles every week, telling me, “You’re a good writer. Keep going.” He’d buy me Stone Soup Magazine, a children’s literary journal, and encourage me to submit my work.
When it was time for me to go to college, and I wanted to major in journalism, they were all for it, and never once tried to get me to change my major or take a different path.
I joined my school newspapers in middle and high school, and my parents would make sure I got rides home from school after our newspaper meetings. When it was time for me to go to college, and I wanted to major in journalism, they were all for it, and never once tried to get me to change my major or take a different path. They were excited when I got prestigious journalism internships and always supported me so I could follow my dreams.
Today, I’m working in the field I majored in, and I owe so much of that to my parents. Early on, they saw what I was interested in and what I was good at, writing, and they made me feel confident enough to pursue it. There was never any talk of, “Writers don’t make much money” or “Why don’t you go into something more practical?” Instead, they helped me on my journey to becoming a professional writer.
Every single day, I’m grateful and amazed that I’m able to pay my bills doing what I love. I never have the “Sunday Scaries”; I actually look forward to Mondays. At different times in my life, I had to take on 9-to-5 jobs I didn’t like in order to get by, so I know what it’s like to feel trapped. The contrast makes me extremely appreciative that I don’t have to live that way anymore.
Now that I’m a parent, I’m going to encourage my daughters to follow their dreams as well. Even if they don’t end up pursuing their passions in the long run, at the very least, I’m showing them that I support them. Building that kind of confidence up in children gives them the self-assurance they need to thrive when they go out into the real world. They know that they are special and can accomplish anything if they work hard and stick to their convictions.
There is a lot of pressure on people to live a specific way: Get a certain type of job, make a certain amount of money, and stick to what other people around you are doing. The world tries to stop us from following our heart in so many ways. And many times, it succeeds.
If we don’t believe in ourselves, we crumble under the pressure to “fit in.” And then we’re unhappy because we aren’t fulfilling our God-given purpose. That unhappiness can manifest in a number of ways and, sadly, may ultimately destroy a person.
But as parents, we can change the narrative. We can take interest in our children’s passions. We can instill confidence in our children and be their biggest cheerleaders. We can show them that we’ll always be there for them.
One day, I hope that my daughters will get to do what they love, too. And I hope that they know I’ll always have their back. I’ll always be on the sidelines rooting for them. No matter what.
Want to talk about my column? Email me: Kylieol@JewishJournal.com.
Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal.
