I have spent many decades trying simultaneously to earn a living and find out what I want to BE. Not just do. I've always, always wanted to be a writer, and always, always written. Stories, poems, plays, fragments, in addition to the millions and millions of words I've churned out as part of paying and volunteer jobs. But until now, I haven't BEEN a writer. (Not least because I couldn't stand the thought of not earning money and paying my own way. Accepting that my husband and I are an economic team when I'm not earning as well as when I am is the hardest part of all this Big Adventure.)
My husband the composer often tells students and prospective students that if you can do something other than music, you should. It's only right for you if you see no other choice, if it won't leave you alone, if it's the first thing you think about in the morning and the last thing at night, and it's what you think about most of the time in between.
If I apply that to myself and ask "What hasn't left me alone? What have I been doing compulsively since childhood? What do my dreams of wild success actually look like?" -- um, writing, writing, and they look like me writing.