I’ll be honest: I can feel a bit weird about deciding to do music and art full-time at this point in my life, especially when my social media network knows me from academia and disaster management or maybe podcasting. Posting about music feels out of place when I know these folks connected with me for completely different reasons.

Music has always been part of me, though. When I was choosing a college major, I had three directions: civil engineering (that’s what my dad did), psychology (maybe I had an inkling I was neurodivergent and bipolar), and music (it’s what I enjoyed doing most with the people I fit in with best). I went the academic route and got my Ph.D. despite my dad trying to talk me out of it. Even as a professor, I spent half my time on music—comments about that kept showing up in my tenure reviews.

Going all-in on music wasn’t a decision I made lightly. And the path hasn’t been straightforward. I wanted to leave academia for years, but it was a bit of a golden handcuffs situation. A few years ago, after sending out over 60 job applications in disaster management during better economic times and getting nowhere, I tried audio journalism and podcasting, of all things. I thought I could combine my academic and disaster management background but in an audio medium—getting close to music. I managed one good collaborative project, but breaking into that field proved tough. Everyone in the industry kept saying that you must build your own successful podcast first to get hired.

After hearing that again after moving back to Seattle, I realized if I would struggle in an undervalued field anyway, why not pick one that makes me happy? But there’s this societal thing that’s hard for me to shake sometimes—this idea that becoming an artist later in life means you’re either not serious about working or taking early retirement. And yeah, going from a $150,000/year salary to uncertain income isn’t exactly comfortable.

I try to remind myself of a couple of things when I’m feeling unsure about this path—even shame sometimes, honestly. First, this uncomfortable feeling isn’t really mine—it’s more about how society views careers, success, and art; plus, our brains work by firing off random thoughts and feelings that were useful when trying to pass on our genes but much less so nowadays. Second, we actually need more art when times are tough, not less. Times are tough. And we especially need art that big corporations and streaming platforms don’t control. The music industry needs to change (it is!), which only happens when more people get involved—I’m one of those more people now. I’m genuinely proud to be part of making that happen.

I don’t have it all figured out, and I want to be honest about that. It feels inauthentic to post on social media like I have a bulletproof plan for success. But I am figuring it out and feel like I can help others do that, too. When I doubt myself, I remind myself that what I’m doing matters, not just for me. But as part of a larger shift in how we value and create art, not to mention actually giving people emotional journeys with music. We need new voices, approaches, and ways of thinking about what it means to be an artist and musician today.

Life is in the transitions (I highly recommend the book by that title); most of us will have to navigate difficult employment changes, which is easier to do with community support. I’m pretty sure other people must be dealing with similar feelings, whether switching to art or hitting dead ends in their careers. Maybe you’re going through something similar—switching careers, pursuing a creative path, or just questioning where you’re headed. If so, now you know for sure you’re not alone in feeling this way.