I’m going pro. Well, at least, I’m starting the pro-cess.
And I’m scared. I’m terrified. I’m excited. I’m proud. But, mostly, I’m scared. Here’s a partial list of what’s keeping my hands from being steady:
- Am I too old to start something that is brutal on the body? Especially when I have a bad knee, shoulders, and a family history of bad backs and severe arthritis. I’m middle-aged and my life long struggle with my weight is front of mind. Can I bake for a living and still keep my weight under (relative) control? Can I stay healthy while I sell sugar for a living? (Yes, I can make accommodations for my knee and get to the gym more regularly. And I’ll be healthier for not sitting all day.)
- Is selling sugary treats even moral? Am I feeding the American addiction to white sugar? And as a fat person, am I somehow complicit in supporting Big Sugar? (Holy cow, Maria, hand baked goods bring joy. They’re less sugary than commercial manufactured ones. They’re special. Even the French eat pastries! And the guilt I’ve absorbed about being fat around baked foods has been toxic only to me. I have talent and drive. That’s all I need.)
- Will I flake out on this too? My inner voice tells me I like the beginning of things. The ideas, the research, the build. As soon as it becomes real, my discipline pops and I sort of float away. (This is my cruel inner voice. In fact, I usually stick with things long past the expiration date.)
- Am I good enough? Am I a good home baker? Or just a squib? Do I have what it takes to make a living? (A bit of talent, lots of practice and hard work, marketing, research, luck, follow-through. I have most of THOSE.)
- Why not do it? It’s one of the great joys in my life and it brings joy to others. Plus, it’s creative and chemical. Rise and fall. Balancing flavors and textures. Making it look good. What else could be better.
So, in conclusion, I’m a baker now. Hire me to make delicious things for you.