I have been writing ever since I can remember. I have many flower printed journals filled with the childhood adventures I had with my cat. Journals about absolutely nothing. I can’t really say why I even started a journal other than I just wanted to, and my mother bless her heart kept buying me flower printed notebooks to fill.
I also have bits and pages of the times I attempted to write books from my overactive imagination. I never got very far; I wasn’t patient enough for that. I still tried though because writing has always been a part of who I am. It is just as much inherently who I am as my stubbornness.
The books I have been reading about career and purpose all mention going back to what our childhood self wanted. I had a list of things I wanted to do when I grew up including: Lawyer, Detective, Vet, and Wedding Planner.
Despite how much of my childhood was spent writing, it never made that list. I am not sure why other than I suppose I never thought of writing as something I could do when I got older, (Other than buying more adult leather-bound journals to fill). This whole time I have been exploring the things I dreamed of doing as a child, that not once did I explore the thing I had actually been doing since I was a child.
Photo Credit: Carolina Mila
A writer in my mind has always been this grand term. The type of person who is magic with words and strikes that magic into our hearts. As if the type of people who write things that others want to read are somehow just better than the rest of us.
I had this idea in my head that you had to be someone special in order to write. At least to write anything that you wanted to bother others to read. I am neither magical or special. I am just a girl with too many thoughts in her head and too big of an imagination. I started sharing my writing anyways, because I thought that maybe someone, anyone would want to read it. The weird thing was that people did want to read it. I am still trying to figure out why, but at least I know that I don’t have to be special to write.
In fact, the only magic writers have is the courage to be honest.
What it means to be a writer, what it really means is quite simple. You just have to be honest with your thoughts, and have the courage to let others read them.
So you want to be a writer? Good, start by sharing your deepest thoughts with complete strangers.
Okay you don’t have to start with your deepest thoughts. We can work up to that, because it is hard and scary. You might as well be saying, “Here have a look into my brain, but please don’t think that I am crazy, egotistical, or mentally unstable.” Or worse maybe you will think that my ideas are stupid and my grammar is terrible. (I will admit my grammar really is terrible. I don’t like following rules, especially grammar rules.)
I have been telling people for a while that I am thinking about law school. But only recently have I started telling people that I am also considering writing school. Saying it out loud makes it seem more real. I like that way it feels as it rolls off my tongue – glistening and sweet. More importantly, I like that it feels right.
Writing is a door that I have never explored in my life, and I am oh so curious as to what lies behind it.
Maybe you are like me, and think that you aren’t magical enough to be a writer. Maybe you are right, or maybe you are wrong. There is really only one way to find out. Try.
Oh you might fail. In fact you might fail a lot. But then one day, one seemingly normal day when you are about to give up, you just might make it.