#30 I cheated… twice
On the 6th of January 2025, I signed my contract to publish my first novel. If everything goes according to plan, it will see the light in March 2026, which proves that bringing a book to life takes more time than my three pregnancies combined. But who’s counting apart from me, my family, and some friends? Exactly: very few people know about me, my book, or our combined existence, but that’s okay; that can always change; that’s not what I’m writing about today.
My novel “Unwritten” will be published by Flare Books (Catalyst Press) in March 2026. I still have one year of rants and posts to convince the world to read it… and then I’ll continue asking because I’m too stubborn to stop.
After the signature, I posted the news on LinkedIn. Close to a hundred people liked and commented, which was nice, but that’s not what brought me here, either. A couple of days later, I got a message from a former coworker who first congratulated me on the good news and then popped “the” question: “Does this mean you’re now returning to Corporate Life?” When I read it, I laughed, but when I was about to reply, my fingers froze. Should I return?
I understood her point of view: I‘d tried something, it was working, and it was time to go back “home,” but I had never seen it like that. I’ve moved countries twice in my life, and I never thought those experiences had an expiration date or that I should return anywhere. I moved from Spain to Portugal because of a good opportunity. When I moved from Portugal to The Netherlands, I had a challenge. When I changed Corporate for Writing, I had an idea, an objective, and a massive attack of stubbornness. I never put myself a limit date, though I knew there was another limit I’d had to face sooner or later. Guess which one?
My mother asked the same years ago: “When are you coming back?” I think she’s still hoping for a different answer.
It took me three days to reply to the text, and when I finally did, I said I was not thinking about returning, but a little part of my brain did not like that response. In the following days, I kept asking myself, “What if?” until one morning, when I opened my laptop and, instead of writing, I looked for a job. I told myself I was “browsing,” but then, I found a position I really liked, and that’s when I knew I was in trouble. Having a full-time job does not fit my current goals. Spending my 8 to 5 in an office would dry my creativity and make me slow down or even stop what I’m doing now. How would I face the edits and the creation of new material? Still, I thought about that position for a week and fantasized about returning to my high heels, the fast life, and the constant challenges. I cheated on myself because I should be loving what I was doing, and instead, I was selling my creative soul for a salary. Yes, I miss the salary part; I cannot deny it.
A new round of edits arrived at my table, and I refocused again. I was determined to do my thing from the beginning to the end with no distractions. I quit for a reason! I can do it! I told myself many times. Then, I got another text from a different friend who saw a post about a vacancy in the company I used to work for.
“Do you think I could be what they look for?” she asked me.
I opened the link she sent me, and there it was, exactly the same post I had seen a couple of weeks before, taunting me. I called her and explained what they looked for, the type of job, and what every word meant… and I saw myself there again. For three more days, I thought about it: “I could do this,” I told myself. I even opened my old CV to update it. I looked for the recruiter to check if I knew who I would speak to in case I was called… No, when I was called! Why wouldn’t they call me? My profile was a perfect match… but what if they did not call me? What would that mean?
I closed the CV tab on my laptop with a mix of fear and sadness. I had cheated once more on myself. Would I lie to myself afterward, saying it meant nothing? Because it meant… if not, I would not be writing about it, right? One week and many pages later—because I seem to work better when tortured— I looked for the job posting, but it was gone. My temptation had disappeared, vanished, and left a hole in my heart. It was not meant to be, I told myself… and then, I remembered why I quit and all the things I’ve not written about yet. New ideas flooded my brain in such a fast and furious way that now I am overwhelmed, stressed, and confused. Perfect, just what I needed… time to write!
