First, my father pushed me toward anesthesiology. Then he supported my shift to nurse anesthetist. Finally, it was, how about just a regular nurse?
As I neared journalism school enrollment, he begged me to reconsider. 'No money in it,' he warned. I didn't listen—I wanted to write. Four years later, landing an entry-level sportswriter job at $26,000 a year felt like a fortune.
Reality hit fast. Dad was right: writing isn't lucrative, especially for a 22-year-old. I scrimped—living on Campbell's Chunky soup, scoring thrift-store shirts, even filling my gas tank at night for supposed extra mileage (don't fact-check the science; that's why I'm no anesthesiologist).
I tired of 'The Soup That Eats Like a Meal.' I didn't just want more money—I needed it. Student loans and credit cards were crushing me.
Then, a friend's project introduced freelance writing—my lifeline. It's baffling journalism schools don't teach it. That side hustle sustained my passion, bridging lean years to where I now do fulfilling work that serves others and pays the bills.
Side hustles fuel finances or passions. If self-determination drives you, you've found the right LadiesBelle I/O issue.
Explore our ultimate guide to solo side hustles. Meet achievers like you in our profiles, debut 30 Under 30 list, and stories on perseverance, positivity, imagination, and productivity.
You'd think that's plenty. But as a hustler, you always want more. This issue is for you.
