When I think about the turning point that most made an impact on my life, it would have to be my decision to join the Society for Creative Anachronism, a medieval re-enactment hobby group for some, a lifestyle for others. Before the SCA, I always felt like Don Quixote, someone with antique ideals who did not fit in the modern world, but this group threw me into the company of others who were like me - nerdy, intellectual, idealistic, and a little weird. Without it, I would not have met my husband, had my children, or started my Norse and Celtic jewelry business. I would not have traveled and lived in so many parts of the United States, nor attended tourneys in so many odd, interesting, out-of-the-way places.
I probably would not have married because I never saw the appeal of "regular" guys - the ones who like ESPN, live for the Superbowl, and avoid reading, learning, or thinking at all costs. Of course, they found nothing of interest in me either.
Being single would have certainly freed up my time for studying in college. I might have graduated with a 3 or 4.0 instead of the 2.7 I ended up with after spending too much time sewing cloaks and gowns, learning how to cook rosewater scones, and flirting outrageously with my future husband.
In some ways, the SCA might have held me back. With my 4.0, I might have been hired by a New York publishing house as a junior editor or proofreader or maybe even chief coffee getter. I would also have had plenty of time for writing because, since I hadn't married, I wouldn't have had four demanding little voices chirping in my ear, saying, "Mama! Mama! Mama, I want... Mama, I need..." By now, I might be releasing my 112th historical romance or fantasy novel or even be consulting on a script for a movie made from one of my books.
However, the benefits of SCA membership outweigh the losses. Without the SCA, I would probably be alone. I've never had the knack of making friends easily, especially if I believed that those potential companions might find me too different and snub me. Trying to build a romantic relationship with a man who might reject me because I was different was an even grimmer prospect. In the SCA, the people around me have been "vetted", so to speak, by their membership, so I know that, at the very least, we can always talk about history, and we will have a much greater chance of "connecting" in general.
I would not have become an SCA merchant. That came about in my first year as a member when I realized that I was going to need extra money to fund my shiny, new hobby. I bought sixteen dollars worth of costume jewelry, sold it for twice that at an event, paid for the trip with a little money left over, and was hooked on merchanting. It was not, and is not, just the money though. I am shy and not likely to initiate conversation with strangers, even SCA strangers, but when I am merchanting, people come to me, strike up conversations, and build friendships. Merchanting is a great boon to introverts!
After we married, my husband and I decided to move the jewelry business away from modern costume jewelry onto a more period path. An attorney in mundane life, my husband has the soul and talents of a fine artist, so he designed and cast jewelry based on tenth century artifacts found at Norse, Celtic, and Anglo-Saxon archaeological sites. The new wares were and are a great success. Our merchanting and the handcrafted products we proudly offer have brought us not only monetary success, but lasting friendships amongst the SCA merchanting community as well as admiration and esteem within the Known World populace in general.
Without the SCA, I would have had a creative, but, in many ways, sterile, life, devoid of tales of war pavilions blowing away in hurricane force winds, teen-aged daughters, out past curfew, dragged home, squawking, from foreign royal encampments, and noble lords winning medieval tourneys in my honor. I would have missed out on a gallant husband, creative children, a house full of swords, armor, bows, and arrows, a lot of stress over my first stint as a feastocrat, bragging rights when my son was authorized in sword and board at sixteen, and endless requests to sew tunics, cloaks, and gambesons. In fact, I probably would not know how to sew at all since that was a skill I learned in the SCA in order to make garb.
Although part of me sometimes yearns for the success that other girl, the one who chose the 4.0 grade point average over life in the Current Middle Ages, might have enjoyed, I can't imagine giving up the less worldly, but far more raucous, joyous, and SCA-blessed life that I have now.