There’s something about writing, or persuing a career in writing, which is harder than any writer’s block. It’s feeling confident enough to say to people “I am a writer”.

Personally, I struggle with talking about the fact that I am writing actively in my spare time. I really struggle with calling myself a writer at all. I am unpublished, it’s something I just do in my spare time. I also play netball but I wouldn’t dare introduce myself as ‘ a netballer’, so how can it be okay to name myself something that, thus far, has been a glorified hobby? The majority of my friends and family don’t read my writing, or even this blog (most don’t even know the blog exists!). Maybe it’s because I got made fun of in school for reading out my stories to classmates. I also had an ex who was not too kind about my writing…

Perhaps I’m generalising? Maybe no one else feels this way? It’s just that can you really call yourself a writer if you’re not published? If no one’s ever paid you, how can you say it’s something you do? I have only shown my stuff to strangers on the internet in recent years and I’m sure they wouldn’t hesitate to tell me if I was shit but there’s a very real fear that I am not good. That I am a fraud. This thing that I aspire to be could all be complete bollocks and all the work has been for nothing.

writing 9

But then again…

It’s the first thing I can remember wanting to be (besides an actor very briefly). When choosing further education, it was the only thing I could picture myself doing. Even now, when trying to decide where my career should go, I cannot picture myself doing anything other than something that would allow me to write, preferably in a creative context but basically anything vaguely related would do. I have always written stories, poems and songs. Since the moment I could write, I have written.

And I love it, in a way I have never loved anything else. Sometimes it requires discipline to sit my arse down in front of the p.c. but when I am writing anything, even this, I am never bored. I have blinked and four or five hours have gone by whilst writing.

So doesn’t that make me ‘a writer’? If it’s something that’s in my bones, shouldn’t I just get the fuck over myself?

 

 

Feel free to comment below if you experience a similar feeling, maybe we can start a support group… and if you liked this, please like and follow. Clearly, as I’ve just spent 412 words explaining, I need the validation!