From Fired to Free: How Losing My Job Led Me to Live My Dream as an Artist

When you’re in a dark place and everything looks like it will suck forever, it’s hard to dream.

A little over a year ago, I was there. I got fired from a job I hated—one of the top two worst I’ve ever had. I disliked most of my co-workers, dreaded showing up every day, and felt completely stuck. I was working for a paycheck, not for purpose, and it was eating away at me.

When I lost that job, I didn’t spiral—I went camping. I needed to be surrounded by trees, quiet, and sky. I needed space to figure out what I actually wanted from my life.

I’ve always been a worker. I remember counting out dollar bills from my Golden Corral tips to pay rent. My husband—then a coworker—was sleeping in his car when I offered him a room in my rental house. We’ve come a long way since those days.

But that moment of being fired was my wake-up call. I realized I was subconsciously trying to blow up my own life. I was exhausted, miserable, and losing myself in the process. I was making good money, but at a cost far greater than dollars.

During that two-day camping trip (which, by the way, terrified my poor husband), I made a decision: I was done living someone else’s dream. I was going to do whatever it took to live mine—to become a professional artist.

And I’m happy to say, I’m doing it.

My husband—my best friend and biggest supporter—stood beside me and said, let’s make it happen. Together we made a plan. I sold our home and our mountain rental property, and we moved into our smaller house. We cut down to one manageable mortgage, freeing us from the constant stress of debt.

That freedom gave me the chance to build a new life around creativity.

Since then, I’ve joined my local Arts Center, built a website, participated in several art markets, and started selling originals and prints. I paint daily. I’ve even begun working on my first illustrated book. It’s been hard work, but it’s the kind that fills my soul instead of draining it.

A huge part of my transformation came from reading—and actually doing—The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. Every morning I write my artist pages. I’ve done every exercise, and even worked through her follow-up books. One day, my husband walked in to find me sobbing in my studio. He thought I’d lost my mind, but I told him, “It’s okay—I’m doing the work.” Because sometimes healing looks like chaos before it looks like clarity.

Doing the work has been hard, but the results are real. Day by day, little by little, I’ve built momentum. By treating myself like a professional artist, I’ve opened new doors I never even knew existed.

Every morning, I remind myself: I cannot fail if I keep working.

And now—just to prove how far I’ve come—my husband is driving to Jupiter, Florida, to pick up my dream car: a vintage VW Bus for art trips. A year ago, I was broken and lost. Today, I’m building the life I used to only dream about.

I believe in the power of dreams—and in taking calculated action to reach them. I’ve gone from counting tip money to building a middle-class life. From thinking “art isn’t valuable” to living proof that it is. I’ve raised two incredible men, and I’m finally letting the light inside me shine.

Because it’s been there all along—it just needed the space to be seen.