Dear Foodie Fam,

Stories...

When I was 4, I decided I'd be an author and illustrator because I loved being read to. I had my babysitter dictate to me how to spell my entire handwritten version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

In elementary school, it became evident I was skilled at writing and story-telling. I'd draw out comic strips and manga for fun. I'd ask my parents to repeat parts of their life history so I could commit them to memory. The library was my Holy Grail and I'd emerge from it's comforting papered bowels with grocery bags full of books. (You'd need to carry the bags with both hands supporting the seat because handles would rip off.) Dad started capping my reading hours and I read so much we had a circuit of 3 libraries to widen my pool of selection.

By middle school, I wrote floppy disks full of novels and exhausted my parent's printer ink to print "chapter books". I edited, wrote for, illustrated for and distributed my own newsletter about how a tween girl can give back to the community.

In high school, I became editor-in-chief on my school newspaper where I coincidentally met my husband. I tried my hand at acting, another way story telling, and found it wasn't for me.

Leaving high school, writing on Wordpress was big, but Blogger changed that. They added value to posts through visuals. A young artist, I curated my own 300+ blog roll which I read religiously... fashion muses (think Song of Style and Style Rookie), DIY crafters (think Design Sponge and Swiss Miss) and photographers (think SFGirlByBay)... I realized I was neglecting my visual storytelling talent. I ached for a way to earn a living creating and curating. Blogs made that kind of living seem possible.

In college, I had health issues and I dug deeper into story telling to find solace. An aunt noticed my artistic eye and pushed me to enter art school when I was pretty sure I would drop out of it like the 2 other colleges I'd been to.

Go figure: I fell in love with art school. I found a tribe of people who appreciated visual storytelling. I didn't feel alone or weird for the first time in my entire life. I could discuss storytelling and my point of view was appreciated and challenged. I threw myself into the curriculum, determined to make something of my dreams and broken health. Eventually, I graduated suma cum laude and was hired into the graphic design and advertising industry right out of college. Deliberately placing myself in different design roles and failing so many times, i learned as much as I could about industry with the ultimate goal of being a self-sufficient freelancer.

A month after marriage, I was let go from my design firm. I assume I was the one cut from our department because I was the only position under "art director" and nerve pain had made me miss a lot of work. I was kept on staff as a freelance illustrator and simultaneously thrown head first into a freelance career I hadn't braced for...

...and go figure: If you work your butt off everywhere you've been, people will remember that.

Every job I've taken since beginning freelancing has been through networking. After 3 years, I now have a full client roster which gives me 40 hours a week of work. Yet, after finally being a designer who crafts and highlights stories... I needed more.

Hence, I began Deets on Eats to not only have a reason to return to and indulge in my non-fine-art hobbies, but also to tell more stories in ways I have yet to master.

And here is the crux of this entry: You can build up to a career that, on the outside, everyone seems to think you are made for... but remain a black sheep, a little green man.

It is a lonely, lonely world being an entrepreneur.

You've chosen to address something lacking in the world- something maybe only you can see is lacking. You are addressing it mostly by yourself and by your own effort and skill. Especially in your first 5 years... there's no pay out.

Everything is an investment of massive proportions. There is no good time to start pursuing your vision because the best ones demand too much of you no matter the situation.

You are not in charge of your schedule. You are on call. You can't jump the train the way you dust off the office at the doorstep, every weekday.

There's no such thing as balance. The myth will haunt and torment you.

Your spouse will be doing more of your chores. Your family and friends will wonder if you are flaking on them and if you have a "real job". Your hobbies fall by the wayside and dry up. Sleep seems a luxury. It'll take so much financial investment you will need to keep that bread-and-butter job and still stay up at night to create content with actual value.

...It's always going to make you feel stupid because you can't be a success without failure. Constant failure. Failure seems to be the only constant.

But learning, if you are driven enough, can become a constant, too.

**You should embrace the learning or else maybe you are in the wrong game.**

Then maybe... eventually... hopefully:

You will find your tribe. Your loved ones will understand and may even become proud of you or stand in awe of your commitment. You will to ground yourself when there is no balance. You will learn it's better to feel present and grateful than fulfilled by any one ephemeral goal you strive for. You will respect your heart's priorities and, driven by need, you will have to start paying dues to your body and what it needs.

You will find what makes you "weird" is also what makes your story and voice unique, valuable and necessary. What makes you feel like a black sheep or the little green man is something you are obligated to give back to the world you were chosen to inhabit.

... I just felt like sharing this. I hope you guys get something out of it.