Vent

Someone recently questioned me calling myself a writer. Someone I really care about and who I know cares about me. The relationship made the remark an extra sharp dagger. The thing is...when the words rolled off my tongue, they even surprised me. They took me by surprise, but they also felt right.

They felt right because writing is my passion. I write every day. It's how I express myself and make sense of the world. I think in stories. Words are my muse. Writing has saved my life, maintained my sanity, healed broken relationships and helped me to end toxic ones. I write for entertainment, posterity, celebration and relief. I write because when I don't, I don't feel right. I write therefore I am.

The issue my loved one had with my proclamation was that I am not compensated for my writing. It's true that I am not paid to write. I have been in the past, but the type of writing I did for money felt less like something I wanted to own than the kind of writing I do today.

I took the hurtful comment in stride. I calmly said the words again: I am a writer. I am a writer because I write. I think she saw my point even if she was still not in total agreement, but the conversation remains in the forefront of my mind.

It's lingered because owning our gifts is not always easy. Believe me, I am my own harshest critic. The not so little voice in my head sows seeds of doubt daily. I don't need any help being humbled. I walk this earth with my fair share of diffidence. 

We need to lift others up, not bring them down. Women need to especially lift up other women. I confess, I'm not always the first one to do that myself even as I'm a big believer in girl power and my tribe. Case in point, I came here to rant and realized that I too can do a much better job empowering other women.

And for the record...I am many other things too.