She Writes

In early January, I wrote a really personal piece, a tribute to someone I loved very much. When I was finished, I sent an email to a handful of people that I wanted to share it with. 

It read like this .... 

Hi Everyone, 

I'm not a writer, but I pretend to be sometimes. I wrote this earlier tonight and wanted to share it with all of you.

 

I included my essay and hit send. 

I kept thinking about what I had written because his loss was still so raw.  

The next morning, I saw the printed copy on my desk. 

I immediately thought to myself "Why did you start that email saying you aren't a writer?" 

In a way it made the piece of writing that was really important to me and that I was really proud of seem insignificant. 

"You are a writer. You like to write and some of your stuff is really good."

People tell me they love to read my blog. 

People tell me that I have a way with words. 

People tell me that I should write a book. 

People notice when long periods of time elapse between posts.

People think of me as a writer. 

Maybe it is time for me to rewrite the story where I tell myself I'm not. Maybe it's time to rewrite the story where I say that my work isn't good enough, that writing is a hobby and isn't important or valuable. 

Maybe it's time to own the title "Writer" 

Here we go ......