[Heads up, folks. This is honest. And may not cast me in the best light. You decide. I do think though, that these feelings and concerns over one’s worth and usefulness aren’t exclusive to me, if we’re all being completely honest. (Right?!) So I’m sharing. That’s why. Because I don’t think I’m the only one.]
If you haven’t noticed, there’s been a whole let less writing happening on this corner of the internet. For me, there’s been less publishing, fewer deadlines, fewer half-baked drafts. There’s been less writing.
This isn’t about writing though. It’s about what writing stands for and has stood for in my life. For the past few years, it’s been my safety blanket. When I wondered about my worth, I was reassured by a byline. When I questioned my talent, I hung on words of the generous voices who contacted me.
But then life happens, and jobs become harder, and they come home with you and wander around your nights with you. And that thing that you loved and that loved you, that comforted you, becomes increasingly more and more….quiet.
So I’m still a writer, I’m just not writing as much anymore. I still do– don’t get me wrong– but not to the degree I was. And all this begs the question: who am I without writing? [Who are you without that thing, whatever it is?] There are the obvious joy-quotient answers…Writing delights me. It’s therapeutic and healing. But it’s also a dependency.
See, I do care to know myself outside of what I can offer the world in the form of skills or talent. I want to know that I’m okay, I’m enough, I’m just right…without all the affirmation and self-congratulations of a byline.
Because I do believe that we’re enough as is. That aside from our contributions and our usefulness, we still have worth. And sometimes, it takes pushing those things aside for a moment, by choice or by necessity– inhale–and see that you’re not dead without those things. You’re actually just fine. And there’s a floppy, wiggly baby nephew in your hands and you’re life is rich and growing richer, every day.
Peace out, lovebugs. Thanks for listening.
Yes. We are more than what we do. So, so much more. Thanks for the vulnerable reminder today. Needed it. xx
I feel you. I felt this when I gave up competitive soccer. I felt this when I gave up my morning writing schedule to have morning sickness 🙂 I feel this when I think about how I used to be a fast runner, haha. Your bringing up Sam is spot-on. Time is a gift, and we choose how to spend it every day. When we have the opportunity to snuggle with a sweet nephew, can we refuse because we’re busy maintaining our identity? No way! So yeah, I feel you. A byline is just tangible evidence of talent that will be there waiting for you when you have a little more time on your hands.