I try to go forward with my work not giving a damn if people support me or not. At the same time after so many years being the definition of what people don’t approve of, I crave it. I crave recognition and from my family that I’ll never have. I’m dreading holidays coming up when I have to spend thanksgiving hearing the same two questions before I’m even in pre-hug with a relative. The two questions are am I working (I’ve been working the same job for almost 3 years) and am I still writing (again not a hobby this is my job that I’ve been doing since I was 15. I get asked these questions as if I’ve gone job to job or haven’t worked at all when in fact I’ve had a steady job that’s a good job. As for writing, I’ve published two books this year, but I haven’t really told them. Mostly because when I told my aunt and her daughter I was publishing my first novel the reaction wasn’t positive or negative instead it was just insulting. My aunt said “oh” as if I told her the weather was changing. Her daughter would send me a link to a fake creative writing course the next day. Six and half years of writing my first novel the time had come where it was going to be published. Everything I had working for and that was the reaction I got. When it did come out I didn’t tell them. When I published my second book (it’s like an in between book) I didn’t tell them. I have cousins who were supposed to come to my book party but never showed up. I’ve been reeling since that event. I swear I’d have more support if I was having an unexpected pregnancy like so many other members of my family. I saw so many of family members get pregnant as teenagers or early twenties doing what they had to do instead of what they wanted to do. I didn’t want that life if and when I have kids I want to look back and see my accomplishments instead of what I could have done. I get no credit for choosing a career and working my ass off to start that career. Instead I get the dissatisfied ohs and the uninterested care.