Writer

Labels are such interesting little buggers.  Those simple words, either self-applied or applied by others that seem to form our self-concept and either expand or limit how we see ourselves.

I recently had someone refer to me as a writer. It gave me pause, as I have not thought of myself that way.

Until my husband left, I never wrote anything that wasn’t assigned by a teacher or professor. I suppose I was okay, but I never felt compelled to write and certainly never had a passion for it. As soon as he left, I purchased a spiral notebook and a green pen (the green was very important at the time). And I began to write. The writing was purgative, words never meant to be seen by another. However, I was putting pen to paper under my own volition. Is one a writer by act regardless of purpose or intended audience?

Was I a writer then?

In those early weeks, as I saw the shock and interest in the faces of the police and attorneys, I realized that this story needed to be told. The writing left the spiral notebook and went on a pilgrimage to the computer, where it began to be crafted into a book. Those words were only shared with a select few and were never fully formed into finished chapters. Is one a writer when crafting for an audience, even if imaginary and existing in some ambiguous future?

Was I a writer then?

Almost two years went by without much progress on the book. As I felt driven to write again, I decided to start this blog. Apparently people read it. Did I become a writer when my words were posted in the public domain?

Was I a writer then?

Now, I have been published in the Huffington Post. Let me pause here for a brief interlude. Oh. My. God. I am in the Huff Post. Deep breath.  So.  Freakin.  Surreal.  Okay, now I can continue. Does being asked to contribute to a major publication make one a writer?

Am I a writer now?

At some point, I would love to be paid to write. Is receiving remuneration for authorship services required of one who is designated as a writer. In other words, does the IRS need to see me as a writer in order for me to qualify?

Will I be a writer then?

How about when my book is completed and published (hey, now, I’ve got to dream big!!)?

Will I be a writer then?

It is strange how writing has permeated my life these last three years when it has been all but absent for the previous 31 (okay, so I actually couldn’t write for the first few of those…). I spend time every day mentally composing and then crafting posts. I enjoy the process of writing and I love hearing feedback from those who read my words. Writing has become a way to reflect and to share.  It is now both purgative and restorative.  At this point, it has become part of who I am.  I feel like I’ve embodied its spirit to the point where I cannot imagine its exit from my life.  I think that is what makes me a writer.