I’ll preface this by saying I’ve been fortunate in ways that some of my colleagues may not have been. I have always believed, deep in my bones, that public relations is how I will do my greatest good for the world. I have no conflict and no doubts.

I wandered but never faltered, and always felt like I was exactly where I needed to be. I know a lot of young professionals don’t feel that way. Maybe PR wasn’t even your first choice. Some of the best PR pros I know fell into the industry by accident.

Like so many of us, I spent six years in college diligently studying AP style, the social psychology of public communications and the prevailing theories in our field. My education was top priority for my dad, who raised me to believe that a college degree was the holy grail, and my key to success and stability. As my final semester of college (and my 18-year scholastic career) drew to a close, I entered the panicked phase known as, “Now what?” I was morbidly preoccupied. Simply leaving college to join the ranks of the educated, but unemployed, was inexcusable mediocrity in my eyes.

I realize this is a very common fear. I had never done things quite like my classmates though. As a pierced and tattooed metalhead belly dancer with a penchant for lighting things on fire, I had cultivated an identity that I couldn’t just set aside for a job. Call me naive, but I don’t think you always have to compromise. In college I’d interned with two heavy metal record labels, held a job as community relations manager for a company that made fire dancing props, and volunteered as communications director for a Burning Man-inspired event that attracted more than 1,000 San Diegans to a fully-participatory art party.

When I’d filled in the last bubble of my last exam, I knew I wasn’t (ever) going to be done learning. But I had to make a choice between spending the next 20 years digging myself out of crippling debt for the sake of a master’s degree, or get to doing things the way I always had: my own way.

Instead, I embarked on a self-guided master study. I started taking probono clients the week I graduated. My first gig was a burlesque company for whom I directed marketing strategy and also performed as a guest fire dancer and hosted VIP absinthe tastings. Next, I worked media relations for a fine artist in New York, then a nationwide art event for elementary school children. I’ve just been asked to manage publicity for a fire dancing retreat and also for a prominent horror literature convention, both of which will be coming to Los Angeles very soon. I love the way my work has integrated so organically with my oddball hobbies. It was just a matter of promoting my skills where I was already passionate. Everyone needs PR.

Now I’m a year out of school, working my tail off for clients who count on me. I’ve been rejected, I’ve been discouraged, and I’ve failed. And I love that. Now, I’m at a turning point where I must value my time and stop working for free. I’m good at what I do, and being able to say that is priceless.

My mentor in college told me I’m not a carbon copy, that I’m not destined to do things the way everyone else does. I will always be grateful to her for that, because I can’t imagine doing things any way but mine.