Hardest Part of the Journey

Hardest Part of the Journey

by Oscar Matos Linares

Today, one of my customers asked me three questions that made me stop and smile:
“What has been the hardest thing for you since moving from Puerto Rico?”
“What’s the hardest part about being self-employed?”
“Would you encourage a teenager to go into the arts?”

They sound simple, but each carries a lifetime of experiences behind it.

I feel blessed that I can now understand and read English well. Writing is still difficult, but it’s gotten better — especially with the help of ChatGPT. Yet language isn’t the hardest part. What’s truly difficult is dealing with discrimination, dismissal, and the constant need to prove that I belong. It often feels like no matter what I do, the goalposts keep moving. That takes a toll. Honestly, if I could have followed my dream in Puerto Rico, I would have stayed there.

Being self-employed means I can’t say “no” to work. I never know when the next job will come or when income will stop. It’s not that I can’t manage money — it’s that my work swings between extremes, and there’s no way to predict it. One day it’s an hour of installation work, another day six. My goal is to reach a steady four hours a day, but that kind of balance is rare.

And then there are the art fairs. You can prepare for months, invest in travel, setup, and presentation — and still, all you can do is show up with your best work, your best attitude, and hope for the best. Every show is a new test of faith and endurance. Sometimes you sell beyond expectations; other times, you leave wondering if you should have stayed home. It keeps you humble — and it keeps you learning.

Would I encourage someone to make a living this way? Yes — but with open eyes. There’s no such thing as financial stability in this world. You can have your best year ever and still face uncertainty the next. It’s a constant grind, emotionally and physically.

But here’s what makes it worthwhile: when you’re self-employed, success and failure are both yours. You learn to own them. I’ve learned to treasure the joyful moments quietly because they’re the fuel that keeps me going. If I never tried, I’d never know what I was capable of.

Along the way, I’ve met incredible people — kind souls who’ve taught me things I never expected. As crazy as this year has been, I keep pushing forward. Every day I wake up with joy, with the desire to create, and the desire to live. But I won’t lie — I’m still scared of the things I can’t control.

Still, I keep going. And maybe that’s the real answer to all three questions.