On ambitions and the disappointment that follows

When I first contemplated taking up translation as profession, I had ambitions. And not just any ambitions. I wanted to really make it out there. I wanted to be acclaimed and recognized, I wanted people asking and quoting my opinion. I pictured myself as the next Edith Grossman.

Noticed the past tense? Good. Because those ambitions are no more.

After a few years of deluding myself I have finally realised that all those things above will not happen. Why? Why, indeed. Someone believing in destiny or some other form of determinism would probably say it wasn't meant to be. Which really doesn't work for me, because I don't believe in destiny. I believe in cause and effect. Ergo, I must have done something wrong along the way. Perhaps I didn't try enough. Or I did but it didn't work. Or perhaps there is something wrong with my face.

Don't get me wrong - I'm quite content with what I have achieved thus far. I have customers, I make enough money to carry on without counting every single penny and the texts I translate are sometimes quite entertaining. In general, I'm OK.

And therein lies the problem. It's just 'OK'. Nothing more. I know that there are probably dozens of people who would gladly swap places with me and be 'just OK', but that's beside the point. I have put my ambitions aside, yes. I haven't forgotten them, though. Subconsciously, I'm still waiting for something. A breakthrough that would finally put me on the map.

And I'm afraid that's all there is and ever will be - waiting, until one day I realise that my life has all but passed in the general state of OK-ness. Which is not a very happy thought.