Writing is a big deal to me. A really big deal. I had a job as an accountant and had been working in public practice for almost 10 years when I reached breaking point. I hated the work. I hated charging every six minutes of my time. I hated the lack of connection. Each day I felt like a robot, churning out yet another set of financial reports, exchanging nine hours a day of unhappiness for financial reward, as well as for the snazzy title.

Each day I felt like a robot … exchanging nine hours a day of unhappiness for financial reward, as well as for the snazzy title.

After coming from a fairly poor family with a mother who slogged her guts out as an underpaid secretary, and a father who stayed at home and drank due to a work accident, I thought my parents set the limits of what I could achieve. Since I was their creation, this made perfect sense to me.

Despite being an A-grade student and coming second in my year, I decided I may as well leave school at Year Ten. I couldn’t see any point continuing; my family was far too poor to afford to send me to university and I had no idea that Government student loans existed. Also, I was pretty sure I wasn’t smart enough for university. Those students were way out of my league, like Stephen Hawking or Einstein.

Since I’d already left home at 16 and was working a part-time job of an evening, I thought ‘Why the heck am I still bothering with school since there is no hope for me?’. I did what any A-grade student with terrible self-esteem would do: I quit school so I could work full time at McDonalds and smoke pot.

I did what any A-grade student with terrible self-esteem would do: I quit school so I could work full time at McDonalds and smoke pot.

When I fell pregnant with my boyfriend, it was not planned and I was not happy. In fact, I was petrified. I had no idea how to be a parent was terrified of disappointing my mother, who was quite religious. I wrote her a letter when I was already four months pregnant and she was surprisingly supportive. I was 18.

My son came into the world and I continued working in food and retail. When my partner left for a ‘break’ when our son was three, I told him not to bother coming back. We were very young when we first got together and our relationship was always on-again-off-again. I wanted my son to have more stability, even if that meant single parenting.

During the time on my own, something shifted. I started remembering who I was. I started remembering that I was capable of more than handing people food and giving them change. I remembered that my life was actually my own.

During the time on my own, something shifted. I started remembering who I was. 

I went to TAFE and got a Certificate IV in Financial Services, purely because my aunty could babysit during the hours the classes were running. When I finished, this gave me the confidence to go University, with the encouragement of my TAFE teacher. I enrolled as a mature aged student in my early twenties, did a Bachelor of Business (Accounting/Economics), then a Graduate Diploma, and went out and got a job as an accountant. I hated it from day one.

But no-one said life was meant to be easy. By this time my mother had died of cancer at age 50 and I was estranged from my father since I no longer had any reason to have anything to do with him. Work was all about the Key Performance Indicators, no genuine care for staff or clients. I was always stressed and had less patience for my son than I would like to admit. I also had a regular eye-twitch that bugged the hell out of me.

When I had my own health scare, I was disappointed when the results came back negative. I didn’t want to die but it would have been the pause button I needed for the world to just stop, just stop so I could recalibrate and figure out what the heck was happening. That’s when I knew it was time to change my life. I started thinking of ideas, things I could do instead of accounting, but I always hit a brick wall. I applied for jobs outside the accounting world but never got anywhere—why would they hire me in admin or customer service, when it seemed like such an odd switch?

I didn’t want to die but it would have been the pause button I needed for the world to just stop.

One day I crashed at work—not physically, but spiritually—I couldn’t go on. I said to myself (or maybe I said it out loud?), ‘I release this’. I released my concern that I had no idea what else could possibly do, having worked in the accounting industry for so long. I released my concern about finances. I released the fear of losing my cool job that made people treat me so much better than they did when I’d tell them I was a waitress. I released my belief that I had to control the universe and instead let it help me.

I felt it all leave my body.

Seconds after I uttered those words the phone rang, and I was offered a job three days a week as a TAFE teacher, which paid the same amount as full time accountancy. Now, I won’t lie. This event wasn’t quite as remarkable as it sounds. I was already working at TAFE one evening a week teaching a three-hour business class, so it’s not like I was cold-called randomly out of the phone book. But still, I do think there was an element of magic to it. I think that’s how the universe works.

I discovered my human side again.

I worked as a teacher for a couple of years and while it wasn’t my calling, I discovered my human side again. We had morning tea breaks! I talked freely to the students and to my colleagues without thinking about six-minute time blocks! I was a real, living, breathing human and no longer a robot.

In this new realm of personal freedom, I started writing. Writing was a pastime I enjoyed as a kid: I wrote poetry and short stories just for fun, illustrated them, and stapled my work together to make little books. I imagined myself as different people and even different objects, with my favourite short story being, My Life as a Pencil. (A thrilling read: the pencil ends up in the dump because he’s sharpened down to a tiny stump, but makes friends with a broken ruler and they have one hell of a good time together.)

One thing led to another, and just from doing what I enjoy, an unpaid writing gig on the side led to a paid writing gig. Then, more work came along and now all I do is write. I am a writer and I don’t care if that doesn’t sound as fancy as an accountant and I’m on 30-grand a year less than I was. I am free and I am doing what I truly love doing.   

I never imagined I could get paid to do what I love but I guess that’s what happens when you trust the magic. Yes, writing is a big deal.