I am a 26 year old working as a sales executive for a huge multinational company selling chocolate.
Now, for those of you in school, or who have (like I nearly did), given up on your dreams, that might sound fine.
And for those of you younger or older than me, it might sound fine. In fact, it is literally fine.
But that’s all it is. FINE.
And fine will never be enough for me.
If I look back on my life at 80 years old and say it was fine, I will be deeply broken. Because I want it all.
I want deep, unspeakable love. I want passion for my work. I want travel and adventure and safety and heartbreak and everything you can squeeze out of this life.
I want to write myself a big life. To tell people stories that make them laugh, and feel big, horrible, brilliant feelings like I do.
I want to travel the world in 5 star hotels and order room service whilst hiding away and writing.
I want a life like that: where I’m paid for something I can give, my talent, not my time.
Because I want my time for myself. I want it so I can eat, and drink, and write and travel and experience life and spend time with the people I love.
I want it to myself. And I want to earn enough money doing what I love, spilling my guts and heart to you, those people mad enough to read it (if you ever exist), that I can give the people who love me a great life.
That I can give my parents everything they never had and never thought to want, because they’ve given me everything. So that I can sweep my love away to everywhere he wants to see. So that I can live deeply, truly.
Whilst sharing it.
So I’m going to start writing.
Every day. I’m going to write whatever comes into my head, for 30 minutes.
I’m going to tell you my stories, and the stories of people I meet and love, and the stories I’ve been told a million times, so I feel like I lived them.
That way when the people who told them to me are gone I can read this and remember their stories and know that I cherished them always.
And even if no one else ever reads their stories, or mine, it won’t matter. Because I don’t care if my story is worth hearing: It is worth telling.
If you're feeling anything like I was at 26 in this letter, and you've got this nagging feeling that writing might be the key to the future you're dreaming of, whatever age you are...
My copywriting business course, Paid to Write, opens for enrolment on 1st September.
Find out all the details here: https://www.choicewordsbychantelle.com/paidtowrite
You'll get instant access to 30+ pre-work lessons to get you started, and then the 6-month programme with live weekly coaching begins on 1st October.
If you'd like to chat with me about the course or ask any questions, click this link to message me on WhatsApp Business: https://wa.me/message/C6RXUOSZCUWMH1
As I prepare to launch my updated, 6-month copywriting business course, I've been trying to retrace my steps, diving into the archives of the blog (and secret google drive folder) I wrote in before my business got anything close to successful.
In fact, as I realised when I found the following entry, I started the project of writing regularly a good year before I handed in my notice at my corporate job. It seems even then, despite the fog of frustration and painfully low self esteem, I knew there was something more out there for me, and had a suspicion writing might be the key...
I read this (and a few other posts) aloud to my boyfriend Justin over the weekend. He teared up, and told me: "You have to share these."
He explained that these letters would more closely, honestly and clearly speak to the people who need my guidance than any sales page I could write.
Because it's me, when I was them.
And of course (annoyingly, as always) - he's right.
So over the coming weeks, I'll share extracts of those early days with you. The occasionally sad, often hopeful, big dreaming words of an early-days Chantelle, dreaming of bigger, better, more free horizons.
I'm so grateful to this girl, who refused to settle for ordinary.
I want to scoop her in my arms and tell her life won't be perfect, but it will be beautiful.
And oh god, will it be so much MORE.