Where is my motivation

So in starting a new job obviously i am going to have new hurtles to take on.
New tasks i have to prove i can do, but ive been conditioned to do what others tell me to do, to do by example.. i have never been asked before " what do you think?" or " can you create something" its usually " this is what i want."
This new position is asking me to find that ambitious girl i pushed myself to be and i want to do so!

When i started University i had never been the smart girl, in fact i was surprised i had even gotten into University. It was York mind you, that university is kind of known for accepting those average students. I had gotten into Uof T which is a school filled with over achievers and student council presidents, but i somehow felt i didn't belong their.

I was thinking today about how scared i was to start University. I changed my thinking alot that year. I started my first class, my professional writing class, the tutorial was on a Wednesday at 8:30am and i was so eager that i got there at 7:30. I have never gotten anywhere that early before.. it meant waking up at 6:00 to get ready and catch the bus on time. 6:00am never even existed to me before. i used to get up for school in time to watch the bus i had missed drive away from my street!

So anyways... i get there and my first thought is " i am a writer, this is actually something im good at and i am going to be surrounded by like minded people, who love to get lost in stories, who think stories are as important as i do" a long first thought that early in the morning but i was wired! I had the most inspirational T.A. she ended up being the head of the department by the time i was in my third year. She was a genious. she had been a stuardess for many years hiding the fact that she was a lesbian from everyone, and hiding the fact that her true passion was to write, until one day she just did it! she left the job she was and followed her passions. the courage that takes is inspiring.

I think everyone in there including my T.A. could tell i was a little out of the loop on the discussions. I tried to participate but i felt dumber then everyone in the class. We were discussing " Patriarical Hegemony" ya... my thoughts exactly ( unless your thinking that you know exactly what that means) i guessed! i got the patriarical part, so when they began to talk about industries that were geared towards male interests and the portrail of the minority... i decided to put my two cents in here and there, feeling as though i could handle a feminist discussion.. afterall i am a woman.. i think i can think of a few negative portrails of woman.

I just remember having this girl there turn around and look at me in curoisity. like she wasn't entirely sure i was real. she was straight edge.. that what people who don't drink and don't smoke call themselves. Very serious type of girl. I stayed quiet for the rest of the class. I decided on my way home that i would need to work harder to understand this world of writers, this world i thought i was already a part of. So i wrote my little fingers off on every assignment. Always getting so/so reviews.. but my T.A. was persistant that i was on to something. That i had it there i just wasn't pushing hard enough, i wasn't expanding my thoughts. like i would have a whole bunch of gibberish and then 1 good point that was never expanded.

Then that final assignment came. The one where we had to write a creative non-fiction, which is by the way the truth on a slant.. your truth.. from your perspective. You could use all the genres at once if you wanted to, prose, poetry, different points of view, fiction, non-fiction. i remember sitting at the library and staring at the page and out of no where it hit me, i had to write my truth.. i had truth. fuck i had lots of truth that i had been expressing in my own poetry in my own way and i wanted so badly to put it on that white crisp paper. By the time i was done writing that 8 page assignment my hands hurt and i hadn't slept but my heart felt lighter. Aall the words laying on it for so long had been lifted off of it.

That paper earned me my first and last 100%. i swear on my life! not a 99% not a 99.5% a 100 fucking % ! It was like i had been trying so hard that i forgot i was a writer, i didn't have to try and just had to speak my truth, with honesty, for myself. The writing was for me. not for the audience, that would follow.

i thought about this feeling on my way to work today. i have a few "creative" web ads i have to create and a "message" that my boss would like to see, i almost forgot about that moment. I am a writer, i am creative, i just need to put myself out there, and face my fear of an audience.