What I Do

I suppose I have always been a writer.  When I was a little girl, I filled my journal with pretend cursive.  In sixth grade I won second place in a writing competition.  In middle school, I started to play with poetry and short stories that I showed only my closest friends.  In high school, I had a few things published in the yearly magazine of sorts.  I have even written a few songs….don’t worry, I won’t unleash those on you.

I have never considered it a hobby.  I never considered it a possible occupation beyond a brief interest in journalism in college while I was majoring in music performance.  I did consider it something I did.  Like how I bite my nails while in deep thought.  Like how I sing without realizing it and how I laugh the loudest and talk the most.

I suppose writing is still something that I just do.

Tonight I will be attending The New Citizens Press 10 Year Anniversary Celebration.  I will be attending as a writer.  It will be the little words italicized under my name.  To be honest, I’m a little anxious about that idea.

It takes courage to try; to attempt to be who you want to be.  It also takes a willingness to step over your own self doubt.

I don’t know if you have noticed but I am constantly preaching to all of you to seek, find and embrace the best of who you are.  Those mini sermons are for myself too.  I am brave. I am fearless.  I am worthy. Sometimes I am unsure if all of those things are true or if they even matter.

All week I have been thinking about why I deserve to be recognized as a writer.  Who am I anyway?  It’s not like I’ve written a book or earned a paycheck worthy of celebrating for what I do.  I’m no…well, any kind of college major degree holder.  What does this even mean to be recognized as a writer?

It means simply that it’s what I do.  It means that people reading my words find me.  They find me at the bottom of a list of things they can relate to.  They find me holding a piece of the world they want to know about.  They find me laughing at my own folly or raging at my own past.  I am making all of the same kind of discoveries.

So….after this little break, I will go and shave my legs and paint my nails.  I will put on a little black dress,

I will put on my strappy heels.

 my jewelry…

I’ll get all dolled up and be who I am. 

It’s kind of what I do.

 One more photo….Levi pushing me down the stairs.  Photo shoot over.

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