25 October 2010

What I Am

I used to define myself as a writer. It's what I was most proud of. It's what most made me feel like I had something to offer the world. I was a writer. I didn't actually qualify for the title. I had hundreds of readers on a blog that I posted to almost daily. But I had never been published. I had never been paid for my work. I was just a girl who loved to write and that other people seemed to enjoy reading.

And then some stuff happened in my life. I got a job. My angel boy turned into a teenager. My sister died. Stuff happened. And suddenly, I couldn't write anymore. I'm not saying I just had a bit of writer's block. I'm saying, I could not write. I wanted to. I would sit down with my computer in my lap and put my fingers on the keyboard. I would have my cup of milky sweet Earl Grey next to me as always. I would take a deep breath and start to type. But nothing would happen. I would write a sentence and I would delete it. I would have a thought in my head that I couldn't put words to. I would write a whole post and realize it was crap. I could not write.

Life went on, as it always does. I continued to work. I learned (kinda) how to live with a teenager. It's been almost two years of living without my sister. I made new friends and lost others. I laughed and I cried. I said I was sorry when I made mistakes and I asked for apologies from people who had wronged me. I participated in a nine-month leadership course that helped me to define myself for what I really am. I lived my life, and I was still me, even without writing. Life went on.

Now, my life is changing again. My husband D. is away on a year-long deployment and I'm a pseudo-single mom again. Life is busier, and full of stress, but I'm more determined than ever to take care of myself and to be realistic about who I am. I no longer define myself as a writer, but I do know that I love to write. I love to impact others with the words I can put together. It brings me joy and satisfaction. It makes me feel more like me when I'm writing.

I won't pretend that I don't care what you think. I write for me, but I also write for you. I want you to be impacted. I want you to comment and agree, or disagree, with me. I want to write words that make you think. I want you to tell your friends. But regardless, I will still write. Not because I'm a writer, but because I'm me. And because I know that writing is a small part of what makes me, me.

2 comments:

shelley said...

I've been waiting and hoping for a new post. Glad that you're back to it. I go through spurts when I can't (or don't) write, when I have too much heavy stuff on my mind. Sometimes, for me, things are too big or personal to share, or to translate into actual words.

Mommy X said...

Glad you're back, kiddo!