When I was a little girl I wanted to be a writer.
As I grew older, that dream became a little more specific.
Two years into university I wanted to be a journalist. I wanted to have my work published by feminist magazines such as Bitch, BUST and Herizons. I wanted to start my own feminist magazine for Canadians in their early 20s.
Now, there’s less than two weeks before I am finished classes in the Creative Communications program at Red River College majoring in journalism. I do enough freelance writing that I feel comfortable calling myself a journalist. I’ve had an article published in Herizons. Just today I pitched an article to Bitch and have one to pitch to BUST soon. Almost a year ago I started working on Cockroach zine, a feminist/environmentalist publication for Winnipeggers in their early 20s.
And I’ve realized that though I haven’t accomplished exactly what I wanted, I’m so close it doesn’t really matter. I feel like I’ve done what I set out to do. I reached my “big” goals.
So what now?
Those goals I’ve reached, I once thought were unattainable. I didn’t believe I would ever be here. But I am.
Right now, my goal is to finish my classwork, find a job and keep freelancing so my partner and I can be a little more financially stable. Over the summer I’m going to start dreaming big. I’m going to come up with the most outrageous goals that I’ll probably never reach.
I can promise you one thing, it’ll probably have to do with Cockroach zine.
And maybe in two years, I’ll be right back in this position, looking to set more unattainable goals.