Uncovering Pieces of Myself: Writing
Today I was reminded of how much I loved writing as a kid. I loved writing stories; taking my daydreaming, and fantasy pieces, and turning them into stories on paper!
From a young age, I loved observing the different signs, marks, letters that my pen or pencil was leaving on paper. When I was writing, I was watching my words dancing on the paper; writing by hand felt more natural than writing on a screen.
Almost a week ago, through a conversation with a friend in her writing circle, I was reminded about that: how soulless it feels writing on a screen and how alive I feel when I write by hand! I let the pen follow the words, and these words are coming from my soul.
I have forgotten for so long how alive, how fun, how excited I felt whenever I was writing.
It’s interesting! I used to love writing; once a teacher said that “writing isn’t gonna make you rich or famous!”, and just like that, with such a small comment, I stopped placing my thoughts on paper, stopped writing stories, stopped being a writer.
Being a writer
These last 20 years I thought that writers are people who publish books, have a Ph.D. in literature, or a global stage from where they talk about their next writing projects. It only took joining a writing circle, and spending 90 minutes writing, to produce 3 pages of a long blog post.
And just like that, I was reminded of what I seemed to have forgotten. I am a writer, I never stopped being a writer because someone said so. I just forgot, let society/school tell me who I can be instead of me, alone, defining who I really am!
So, yes, I am a writer!
It feels strange writing these words. That phrase feels unknown but so familiar. After 20 years of a break, I am finally back to writing and I feel alive again!
