Thoughts from My Journal: What Is Real

I heard it a lot being homeschooled - "Do you miss going to a real school?" or "Are you going to go to a real school later?" or, after I graduated, "Did you ever go to a real school?" 

I heard the same type of sentiments as a teenager and young adult when I cleaned houses with my mother and sister and delivered newspapers with my sister (the only jobs my controlling and emotionally-abusive mother would allow me to have) - "Those aren't real jobs."  Neither were freelance writing or self-publishing, because I did not make "enough money" from those. 

Perhaps ironically, my non-real school and non-real jobs enabled me to pay for my family of origin's house when my dad was laid off from his real job.  I have shared before how the money I made went to pay bills.  It was only because I was homeschooled that I finished high school.  I worked so many hours a day, the only day I had off from both work and school was Christmas.  Such a schedule is why my high school diploma gives August rather than May as my graduation date.  I fell behind but would not give up on my non-real education. 

My passion for writing developed in my earlier years as well.  My experience writing, interviewing celebrities, and working with editors allowed me access to valuable, hands-on experience.  Even better, such non-real job experience gave me confidence I would not have known otherwise. 

I have been a part of two conversations recently that reminded me of my past experiences - conversations that used the dreaded real job/real education phrases, conversations in which I reminded people a job is a job, regardless of where it is at, and an education is an education, regardless of where it is obtained.  Perhaps ironically, I now have almost five degrees and work in the education field (in what people consider a real school).  I also have not given up on my non-real writing jobs.  All that is God's handiwork, no doubt. 

I wish people would stop proclaiming their definitions of what is real and what is fake, what is successful and what is not, what is worthy and what is unworthy.  I try to remember such words are often spoken from a place of jealousy, depression, or anger.  However, that does not mean the words sting any less.