I can't believe I'm even writing this right now. Doyle pulled me aside after the staff meeting at the Yale Daily News today. He said my last few articles weren't up to the paper's standards - that they were "technically proficient but lacking spark." Technically proficient? That's what you say about someone who can follow instructions but has no real talent.
I've wanted to be Christiane Amanpour since I was a kid. It's been my dream for as long as I can remember. Mom and I used to watch her reports together, and she always told me I could do anything I set my mind to. But what if she was wrong? What if all those years of being the star at Stars Hollow High and Chilton just set me up to fail here in the real world?
I haven't told Mom yet. How can I? She's so proud of me, and she's sacrificed so much - asking my grandparents for help with Chilton, supporting my choice to come to Yale. Even when I'm struggling, she keeps telling everyone at Luke's about her daughter "the future CNN correspondent."
Paris walked in on me crying in the bathroom after my meeting with Doyle. She tried to help in her Paris way, telling me about how both Nora Ephron and Joan Didion faced rejection early in their careers. But this feels different. Those women probably had some innate talent that I'm starting to think I just... don't.
I keep thinking about what Mitchum Huntzberger would say if he knew. He'd probably just give me that knowing look, like he was right all along. Maybe he was. Maybe I don't "have it."
I've never not been good at something I truly worked at before. My whole identity is wrapped up in being good at this. If I'm not a journalist, who am I? What was all of this for?
I need to figure this out, but I don't even know where to start. Every time I try to think it through, I just end up spiraling into more doubt.
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