As I wrote in my last post, I don’t consider myself a ‘writer.’ Yes, that’s what I do for a living. I run a content company. I strategize content. I write reams and reams of words. I plan social media campaigns. But I never thought of myself as a writer.
I thought that’s just me. But these last two days, I have received a few emails from people who felt the same. They didn’t think they write well enough. Or good enough. Or some version of enough. Suddenly, I felt less alone. And more miserable.
That’s not what we should be. Because while it seems ok to me to berate myself and shadow my life as some less-glorious version, I don’t want that to be anyone else.
Because we are enough.
I don’t care how many people visit this site. I honestly have never bothered to publicize this the way I know I can. If I know how to drive 20,000 hits to a client’s website, I know what to do here.
I cut myself down. Because. I thought I didn’t matter. These words don’t matter.
I was sharing my story with the world because it helped me understand my fear of vulnerability. Writing gave me the scope to be a better version of myself. It formed journeys with the world of understanding. It gave life to my thoughts. My stories became yours. Through that process, I learned.
And this I can promise – writing takes away the hypocrisy of pretending to be something that I am not. It’s here that I am myself – there are no filters here.
And in doing so, I learned the peace that comes with being fearless. When we embrace our fears. When we make friends with our anxieties. When we show the narrow walls of our idiotic selves. And trust me, I am one of the most idiotic out there. I am nasty and mean, downright horrible when angry, slow to forgive, and reluctant to open up. I am not all kindness and smiles. No. I am not fishing or angling here. I am being honest about who I am.
If showing my naked self makes me a writer, then I am one.
If my stories create an infinitesimal moment of joy in your life, I am a writer.
If my words make you reach out to the light within you, I am a writer.
And that’s enough.
So, if you doubt why you write, let me tell you this – don’t write for the tweets. Don’t write for the hits. Don’t write for the likes. Don’t write because they praise you. Those people will go. Don’t write because they criticize you. They will also go.
Write because you are a story. An infinitely beautiful story. And your story is so rich that it can only make our lives glimmer with its light.
Don’t craft beautiful words, carefully written with grammatical precision. That doesn’t make you a writer. Don’t write because you think writing is an art and you are an artist.
Write because you aren’t an artist.
You are the creator of your life’s story.
Craft words that tear you apart. Craft those words that can’t settle in unless you release those. Craft words that show us who you are – maddening words that sculpt your soul and numb your mind.
This post is for those who wrote to me about their ‘writing’ fears. You know who you are.