I Didn’t Become a Writer
To the Positive Writer,
Submitted for your approval, a story that holds the truth behind a desperate and depressed individual seeking purpose in a world he once thought held nothing for him.
I was born in Hamilton, Ontario in 1982, to a man of Sicilian ancestry and a woman whose roots trace to England. He was a hardworking man that dedicated his career to building a successful business so he could provide for his family and she was a loving and caring mother that dedicated her life to making her family happy.
At 12 years old, my father put me to work as a helper for his delivery drivers. It was not a glamorous job, but I made more money than my friends and learned the value of hard work. I also ate all the french fries I could shove in my mouth since our customers mainly owned fish and chip restaurants.
That job went on for three summers, after which I graduated to the warehouse. I worked there each summer until I was 18 and eventually left to pursue a career in the culinary arts. I went to a culinary academy in Hamilton where I studied gourmet cooking and eventually landed a seasonal job over Christmas at an upscale Italian restaurant. Knowing it would be short lived, I moved to a steadier position running the kitchen at a hot table in a local grocery store.
After realizing that this life was not for me, I returned to school to take a year long business management program. I took several jobs following my graduation, but still hated what I was doing. So again, I went back to school and studied photography.
This new path led to several jobs in retail sales, school photography, food photography, wedding photography, and the one type that I actually loved, which was shooting live concerts. I inevitably moved into videography and did several independent projects. However, I did not fully dedicate myself to the craft. I became frustrated with the pace and lack of creativity in the projects and eventually lost interest.
For the next ten years, I returned to sales. I sold food to restaurants for four different companies. I gained unwanted experience with bad interviews, both on my part and the part of the interviewer. I was called in for interviews for pyramid schemes, hustlers, and borderline criminals. But all of these experiences only led to more self-doubt and depression.
In 2015, during a short stint of unemployment, I started a blog just for fun. I realized I enjoyed the writing process, but like always, I talked myself out of pursuing it, since all I had ever seen in the media about writers is that most of them are starving. So I pushed that idea aside and continued with my feeble attempts at landing jobs.
In 2017, I was once again between jobs, this time it was less than a month. I was indescribably depressed which had driven me to my wit’s end. I realized I just needed to change. I was scrolling through Facebook one day and discovered a man named Gary Vaynerchuk (details about this can be found here https://ceeyarsblog.com/2018/03/06/you-need-more-gary-vee-in-your-life/) and he basically told me to figure it out and get my ass moving.
This one 45 second video acted as a catalyst in my pursuit of happiness and a successful career in something I love. (I have outlined the steps I took in this article https://ceeyarsblog.com/2019/04/08/the-steps-to-my-personal-success/)
In May of 2017, I started a new job selling electronics in a retail store that was to act simply as a means to contribute to the household income while I did my schooling. At the same time, I started my first online writing class through a local college.
Now, just over two years later, I have finished my schooling, secured a full time job as a content writer, have had several articles published, and I try to contribute to my blog whenever possible. I am also currently working on a screenplay and a novel in my free time and will be starting an eight-week internship in September to gain more experience in sports writing.
As I am enjoying this adventure and truly loving what I am doing more everyday, I like to take time to reflect on how I’ve made it to this point and that I never really became a writer. The writer was already inside me, I just had to let it out.