“If you want to be a writer, you have to write.”
It sounds so simple. Yet, I know without a doubt that it’s not. It’s hard to be a writer. It’s hard to put the words I’ve longed to say down on paper and make them make sense. Because, here’s the thing. If I say I’m a writer and I fail, then what? My dreams end? I find something new to do? I search deeper for what inspires and challenges me?
But, here’s the thing. I love to write. I love the feel of words slipping from my fingers to the paper. I love writing a sentence that sings my story, and I love making an impact on people. For years I’ve wanted to be a writer, but I wasn’t sure what story I should tell. Should I tell my story? The story of my friends and family? A story from my own imagination? The story on my heart about how we all matter?
The unknown paralyzes my writing. The unknown makes we want to stop. To not write. To not put the words on paper. To not share the story.
But it’s time for that to stop.
I am a writer. And so I must write.
The day after that.
I am a writer. And so I write.