Expectations

When I was sixteen and trying to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up, I had pretty much settled on a doctor. My dad talked me into being a writer. I remember the conversation, in our living room. He had a scotch, was sitting in the blue chair. I remember it like it was yesterday. "I don't know, Erica, about being a doctor. All that science--you sure you have a passion for it? I really think you should be a writer. You're a good writer. Very good." Now, in thinking about it, I don't know whether that was somewhat cultural, i.e., he respected the great "classic" writers as a Russian. Or gender (he was convinced I would never get married if I was in medical school and then a residency until I was almost 30). Or he just thought I was a decent writer. But what still amazes me is encouraged me to pursue a profession where it's pretty much guaranteed you'll always be hustling for work or starving.

However, what REALLY got me thinking about parental and familial expecatations is TWICE this week someone said to me the third-most often comment when they hear I am a writer. Number one is, of course, "I have a great idea for a book." Number two is the old, "So what do you write?" And coming in at number three . . . "I always wanted to be a writer, but my father was a lawyer and it was expected that I go to law school" (you can fill in any other profession . . . or if no profession then, "My parents encouraged me to find something you could count on.")

And when they TALK about writing, their faces get almost . . . euphoric. And so I always feel a bit sad for people who aren't really doing what they want to be doing. And of course, there's this idea that they DON'T do it because it's not paying (i.e., they abandoned it entirely and aren't even writing for pleasure or with an eye toward breaking in as a second or side career).

So often, we let others' expectations alter our sails. We start shifting in the water, steering toward some other island, some other place than our heart's true desires. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the first time I got married it was because that's what was expected. It wasn't anything outright (all right, there was ONE conversation that stuck in my mind). But at every family gathering, people asked, "So have you met anyone yet?" and "You're not getting any younger, you know"--and for the record, is ANYONE getting any younger?

I don't ever do that anymore. I try to take a quiet moment with myself and discern what it is I really want. Without the pressures of what I think everyone else wants. It isn't always easy. But after years and years of practice, my internal voice is pretty damn loud.

So tell me, on this path of writing, have you ever been swayed by others' expectations? How did you choose your "day job" if you work at something else? How do you stay true to yourself?