Habemus Master!

Hilda Hurtado

¡I did it! 💪🏼 Habemus Master’s in Creative Writing. 🦉✨

Today I defended my thesis. It’s done. What I feel is a mix of pride and gratitude. I’m very, very excited. It’s been a brilliant experience.

I’d dreamt of doing a Master’s since I finished my degree. For years, the circumstances didn’t line up. But just over a year ago, opportunity knocked at my door —actually, it knocked it clean off its hinges— and I took it. I had to. That decision saved my life.
It wasn’t easy. Going back to university twenty years later came with a lot of doubts. I doubted my ability, my voice, whether my writing would measure up… I’d look at my classmates, with their dazzling trajectories, and feel small, as always. But I finished with an outstanding mark and as a candidate for the highest honours. I’m still shaking; I can hardly believe it. The exam board’s comments brought me back to life and urged me to believe in myself.
I arrived at that place broken. With a diagnosis of post-traumatic stress, anxiety attacks and constant fear. I barely slept; I was terrified of stepping outside. Life seemed to have left me with nothing, out of breath —even without my writing, my school, my French, my friends. I felt guilty, diminished, ashamed, humiliated.
So, although to some it may look like just another achievement, to me it’s a rebirth.
Because, in the midst of pain, I dared to leap into the void and do a Master’s without knowing if I could sustain it —let alone afford it—.
And it all turned out well. I met wonderful people who appreciated my work, my style, my self.

During this process I learnt to both tame and expand my writing.
I understood that my way of perceiving the world, however peculiar, is precisely what makes me special. And I discovered that my greatest strength springs from the vulnerability where this whole path began.
Today I’m fulfilling a big dream: I’ve completed my Master’s.
I’m past the age of trying to make others proud of me. But the girl I once was would be.
And the healthier she is, the calmer I’ll be.
And this ending, rather than a closing, opens me up to new possibilities I couldn’t even imagine a year ago.
In a couple of days I’m off to Spain, invited to my first conference, where I’ll present a paper on new narratives —and many other things.
I’m still breathing. Life went on —and this time, with a stronger, steadier voice.