Why I became brave enough to call myself a writer
Writing is one of those things that I seemed to do easier than everything else in my life, even when I didn't recognize it. While I've tried really hard to do a lot of things, words never required the same force.
Even still, the thought of calling myself a writer, sharing what I've written under the guise of a writer, or pursuing it seriously did not really cross my mind.
"My writing isn't good enough." "I'm not a REAL writer." "There are plenty of people better than me."
Whether any of those nagging thoughts are true or not...it doesn't matter.
My Mom always wanted to write but never found the time (or the courage) to do it. She had a book in her. And when she transitioned in November 2022 after a tough fight with cancer, the full vision of that book went with her.
What made me brave enough to call myself a writer and confidently push past that inner voice is the thought of taking my gifts and dreams with me too.
I never called myself a writer until December 2022. And even then it was only to myself…never claiming the title aloud. It was as if I was waiting for someone to call me out on my lie.
But I made a decision...I am a writer because I said so. I've learned that life is too short to bypass our gifts and make excuses for it.