I internally cringe when people ask me what my job is.

"Where do you work?"

I'm not ashamed of my jobs, in fact I feel very proud of what I do. It's the explaining myself that makes me physically sigh.

"I'm a writer."

"A writer! That's nice. What's your real job?"

Insert the sigh here.

"Writing is my real job. It's my real two jobs actually."

"Oh alright. So you blog?"

"No, no. I write articles and stories."

"Okay, but I'm asking how you make money. Isn't that a hobby?"

"No. I get paid to write."

"How much?"

"How much do you make at your job?"

"Well, I don't feel comfortable discussing that."

"Okay! Neither do I!"

This point in the conversation is when the other person I'm talking to either gets offended and leaves, or coincidentally changes the subject. I look back on these conversations and laugh, but initially it's insulting. Writing is a job, a real one, and a good one. When people tell me it's "impractical" or something along the lines of "find a real one soon" it's dream crushing. Since seventh grade I've wanted to be a writer. I've wanted to make people feel something with my words, and finally I'm able to do that! There are people out there that read my articles every week, and every week I get comments telling me that I made someone's day.

Not once in my life have I judged someone's job. If it makes them happy, what's the point? What is the point in putting a frown on someone's face?

I'm only 18 years old and I'm living the dream I've had since I was young. That's more than many people can say.

Don't tell me to get a real job, because I already have two of the best jobs in the world.