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<\/p>\nHayley prides herself on being a writer. She loves the worlds that she can weave at her fingertips. But when she marries Alex, she discovers that her sister-in-law is the biggest doubter of her abilities. Will Hayley make it or will she give up at Clara\u2019s taunts?<\/p>\n
Writing, for me, was not just a pastime but the very breath of my soul. It wasn\u2019t for everyone \u2014 but it was for me.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve got a gift in you, Hayley,\u201d my mother used to tell me when she caught me hunched over a notebook.<\/p>\n
\u201cPromise me that you won\u2019t lose it,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
I promised. Writing was different for me \u2014 it was the one place that I truly felt seen. But I also knew that I needed a stable job, so I became an English teacher by day, and a writer by night.<\/p>\n
Which is how I met my husband, Alex. During one of our career weeks at school, Alex waltzed into my classroom, ready to deliver his presentation about being an influential businessman.<\/p>\n
To his credit, he held the class\u2019s attention, and when it was time to get back to Shakespeare, they were anything but focused.<\/p>\n
At the end of the day, Alex was waiting outside the school to take me to dinner.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease tell me that we\u2019ll have more to talk about than High School English,\u201d he joked.<\/p>\n
He told me all about himself and how he felt that he was too stuck in his ways.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m rigid,\u201d he confessed. \u201cI love my job, sure. But there\u2019s no room for creativity.\u201d<\/p>\n
After dinner we went to a carnival, and I told him that I was a writer. Alex told me that he loved that I dared to be different in a world that wanted to keep us in boxes.<\/p>\n
Four years later, we got married.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Alex\u2019s family welcomed me with open arms \u2014 all except his sister Clara. For some reason, she just couldn\u2019t bring herself to be nice to me. Things got even worse when she found out that I was a writer.<\/p>\n
Nothing was good enough for her. I wasn\u2019t good enough. Instead, I was often the \u201cwannabe author\u201d who would never make it big.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s cute how you spend so much time on your little hobby,\u201d Clara said one day at our family picnic, her words laced with condescension sharp enough to cut.<\/p>\n
I tried to shield my passion from her mockery, but it was difficult because Clara was loud and obnoxious. Even as I began to grow as a writer, having my short stories published in magazines and websites, it just wasn\u2019t good enough for her.<\/p>\n
Over time, I learned to let things go, but sometimes Clara was just too much for me.<\/p>\n
One evening, Alex and I hosted a dinner party with all our closest family and friends \u2014 it was something that Alex enjoyed doing every so often.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s just nice to have everyone around,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd we have the space. And you\u2019re a great cook!\u201d<\/p>\n
I loved our dinner parties \u2014 it was a time where Alex finally let himself breathe, shedding his skin of being a formidable force at work. He was relaxed and excited to be around his people. He allowed himself to drink and chat, and most of all \u2014 my husband laughed freely.<\/p>\n
Naturally, I was looking forward to the same sort of evening unfolding. I knew that Clara and her husband were coming over, but I figured that a glass of wine would help me navigate her and her taunts.<\/p>\n
As the night unfolded, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, Clara found her moment to strike, amidst a conversation about everyone\u2019s dream careers.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, our dear little author, here, thinks she\u2019s going to change the world with her stories,\u201d Clara said, cutting into her steak.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s going to,\u201d Alex said. \u201cYou just don\u2019t have the vision, Clara.\u201d<\/p>\n
Clara\u2019s husband sniggered but fell silent as she turned to look at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m serious,\u201d she continued. \u201cHayley\u2019s work isn\u2019t as big or exciting as she thinks it is. You should give up while you can.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room chuckled. Everyone was either chewing or laughing at Clara\u2019s words \u2014 filling the space with my humiliation.<\/p>\n
I bit my lip and passed the roasted potatoes around the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cEveryone\u2019s a critic these days, aren\u2019t they?\u201d I managed to say, attempting to deflect with humor.<\/p>\n
But of course, Clara wasn\u2019t done.<\/p>\n
Later that evening when it was time for cheesecake and coffee \u2014 I was busy putting on a pot of coffee, unaware that Clara was nosing in my study.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on,\u201d Alex called everyone back to the table for dessert.<\/p>\n
That was when Clara, having discovered the draft of my novel, a piece of my heart laid bare on those pages. My writing was sacred. I wanted everyone to read it, but nobody that I knew \u2014 the typical writer\u2019s conundrum.<\/p>\n
With the cruelest of intentions, she read excerpts aloud, her voice mocking every word, every character.<\/p>\n
The laughter that followed was a chorus of knives, each laugh cutting deeper than the last. Alex looked at me and smiled slowly. I knew that he was aware of my pain and humiliation. But I also knew that he wouldn\u2019t reprimand his sister in front of people.<\/p>\n
After the party, I found my draft discarded in the trash \u2014 the final symbolic blow to my spirit. Clara walked in with the dirty mugs, and found me picking up the draft.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou threw it away?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were actually serious about that draft? My dear, after the laughter at the party, I assumed you\u2019d want to start fresh!\u201d<\/p>\n
Burning with a mix of rage and inspiration, I channeled my feelings into a new project.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on,\u201d Alex said later that night. \u201cLet\u2019s go to bed.\u201d<\/p>\n
But I didn\u2019t want to sleep. I had no intention of going to bed because Clara\u2019s behavior had struck something in me. In a mix of rage and inspiration, I channeled my feelings into a new project.<\/p>\n
A novel where the main character mirrored Clara\u2019s arrogance and cruelty, set against the backdrop of a character\u2019s rise from the ashes of ridicule. It was satire, yes.<\/p>\n
But it was also my truth.<\/p>\n
Months later, the book was complete. I had two agents trying to give me the best book deal. Of course, Alex weighed in and determined the best option.<\/p>\n
Once the book was out in the world, there were whispers of its success beginning to spread.<\/p>\n
So, I invited Clara to dinner \u2014 just the two of us.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve written something new,\u201d I said, ordering wine for the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought that you might like to be the first to read it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I slid the book across the table to her. The title, along with my name, gleamed under the restaurant\u2019s lights.<\/p>\n
Clara, oblivious as always, simply smirked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m touched. I really am. I can\u2019t wait to see if you\u2019ve finally managed to write something worth reading, Hayley. I don\u2019t know why my brother encourages this hobby.\u201d<\/p>\n
I ignored her and ordered my meal. I wondered whether she was going to page through the book, but it remained firmly shut on the table.<\/p>\n
She didn\u2019t even see the dedication.<\/p>\n
For Clara, thanks for being the inspiration.<\/p>\n
But as the story of my book spread \u2014 as it was embraced for its wit and painfully accurate portrayal of pettiness, Clara\u2019s smugness turned to dismay.<\/p>\n
Our family, friends, colleagues, and even her employer began to see the parallels between her behavior and the villain of my tale.<\/p>\n
When her employer let her go, citing unbecoming behavior in the workplace, Clara came to my home.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou did this, Hayley!\u201d she screamed as she sat on the couch. \u201cYou\u2019ve ruined me!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI only wrote what I knew,\u201d I replied. \u201cYou said that my writing would never amount to anything. That no one would read it. Seems you were incredibly wrong on both counts.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat am I going to do for work now?\u201d she whispered as I caved and made her a cup of tea.<\/p>\n
Despite all my feelings, and the joy at proving her wrong \u2014 I didn\u2019t like the fact that I had hurt her in this way. I didn\u2019t expect her to lose her job.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe school is looking for a teacher\u2019s assistant,\u201d I said. \u201cIt\u2019s not much, but it\u2019s something.\u201d<\/p>\n
Of course, she declined. Although I feel guilty, I am proud of myself for overcoming all the doubts and mockery.<\/p>\n
What would you have done?<\/p>\n
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