I Chose Every Career for the Money — Until Writing Chose Me Vol. 13 — WordsByEkta🌿

🌱 The Seed Series // Vol. 13

I Chose Every Career for the Money — Until Writing Chose Me

Every certificate on that wall. Every platform tried. And still — the answer was the one thing she'd been doing for free.

For most of my life, money was the compass. Not luxury. Not fame. Just security. Freedom. Dignity.

Growing up, I had no career guidance. I didn't even know what options were out there. All I knew was: I wanted to earn as soon as possible.

Sometimes I dreamed of becoming a news anchor or a television personality — anything I saw on-screen became a fleeting dream. But there was no clarity, no path, no how-to. Just a longing to be someone. Someone who earns.

So I chose what everyone around me was choosing: Chartered Accountancy. It was prestigious, affordable, and could be done from home. That mattered.

I failed multiple times — four, to be exact — and each failure made me question myself. But I didn't give up. Eventually, I cleared it.

"When the results finally came, I didn't feel what I thought I would. No elation. No purpose. Just… relief. And then silence. I didn't have great work experience — I'd trained in smaller cities. I didn't land the big-paying jobs like some of my peers. The salary I got was what I might've earned after a B.Com. And somewhere deep down, I knew — this wasn't it. But I had no other plan."

Then motherhood arrived. Everything changed. My priorities. My availability. My energy.

And yet, the pressure to earn never left. If anything, it grew stronger. Not because my husband didn't support me — he did. But I couldn't let go of the identity I had worked so hard to build. I couldn't accept being financially dependent, not after years of dreaming otherwise.

So I tried everything:

AMAZON KDP • YOUTUBE • FIVERR • SUBSTACK • MEDIUM • DRIBBBLE • CONTRA

I wasn't trying to chase every passion. I was trying to survive a restless need — to feel useful, to hold on to my independence.

But somewhere much earlier — even before all this — I had written something, just once, out of pain. No agenda. Just emotion. And after reading it, my aunt casually remarked: "You should be writing." I didn't think much of it then. But looking back now, that moment lives with me.

So do the countless times my friends came to me with emotional struggles and said, "You sound like a saint. You always know what to say." At the time, I brushed those comments off. They didn't seem practical. They didn't look like a path. But today, they feel like clues I missed.

Although I always chose money over everything, I always knew something was off. I yearned for something that would nourish my soul, not just fill a bank account. And for the longest time, I hoped my passion would find me — before it was too late.

It finally did.

Writing isn't just what I do now. It's who I've always been — quietly, invisibly, patiently waiting for me to notice.

No, it hasn't made me financially independent again. Not yet. But it's given me something I never had in all those years of chasing careers:

Peace.
Purpose.
And the feeling of finally coming home to myself.

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✍️ Written by WordsByEkta🌿
🖋️ Emotional Storyteller | Writing what hearts never say aloud

💌 If you connected with my way of saying hard truths — often overlooked but deeply felt — explore one of my free letters:
wordsbyekta.gumroad.com

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