The Who Said You Can’t Be A Writer Blog Tour was created to inspire and remind writers that their inner desire to be an author is the most important thing that they have. The 10 bloggers participating in the tour each share a time when they have been told they couldn’t be writers, whether they were told by others, or they had trouble believing it for themselves, and how they overcame it. To sign-up and hear the other stories head to tinyurl.com/who-said-blog-tour.
It’s probably no surprise that because of the nature of my work I come toe to toe with stories of “I’m not good enough” all the time. In fact, that’s my main purpose in this world – to help youliberate yourself from your own stories of “not enough” so you can become your grandest self.Click To Tweet
Over the past 5 years, I’ve found that no one is immune from the impact these stories have. I’ve seen well educated, powerful women question the worthiness of their opinion just as often as I’ve seen wealthy, successful men question the quality of their work. These stories make us discredit our talent, question our ability, doubt that what we have to say is important and matters. And nowhere do you see this as often as when it comes to creativity.
In her best selling book, Daring Greatly, Brené Brown cites that 85% of her research participants could recall early criticism that changed the way they thought about themselves. Furthermore, about half of those recollections involved criticism of writing, music, dancing, the arts, or something else creative.
Sadly for them and sadly for the world, some of these people went on to never create again. There’s no doubt in my mind that our world is missing out because of this. And there’s no doubt in my mind that these people suffered some small death within their soul by silencing their creative voice. I don’t want that for you.
I don’t want to live in a world where people die with their book inside them. I don’t want to live in world where we’re too afraid to dance and sing, paint and create, write and speak. There’s simply too much at risk to allow your voice to be silenced your whole life. There’s too much at risk not giving light to your deepest dreams.
I know that you deserve better. We all deserve better, but it’s not up to me to decide. We each have a choice on the stories we choose to listen to. We each have a choice on the stories we choose to tell ourselves.
Do you choose to let the story of “not enough” be your truth? Or do you choose to recognize thatwe all have stories of “not enough”… Just not all of us choose to believe them!Click To Tweet
Whether you think of yourself as a writer or simply someone that writes, we are all the authors of our own lives constantly creating our own realities, our own experiences, and the likelihood of our dreams.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to always wonder “what if” because “not enough” was just too powerful for me to face. I want to be the courageous one who takes action on their dreams. And that often means deciding that I’m worthy of them in the first place.
You’re only “not enough” as you allow yourself to be, Dear One. And sadly, “not enough” is the killer of too many dreams.
For the grand majority of my life, I’ve used writing to express the emotional tapestry within. During my adolescence, I would write deep, dark things as I coped my way through depression and anxiety. I wrote about heartbreak, suicidal thoughts, pain of feeling like who I was wasn’t good enough for people to love, and the excruciating experiences of feeling like I never really belonged.
I never shared these intimate writings with anyone except my counselor at the time. It never crossed my mind that this even constituted as writing. It was merely my heart on a page, sometimes stained in tears, other times in blind furious rage of feeling utterly out of control.
As the adolescent depression lifted, my writing became less and less. I very rarely sat down to write unless it was for an academic assignment, but that type of writing never quite fed or soothed my soul like my emotional writing once did.
It actually wasn’t until 3 years ago that I started writing again. I entered a phase in my life where I felt lost and unsure of who I was and where I was headed. Once again, a pen to paper gave me an outlet that was so needed. I can’t really remember what prompted me to start sharing my work. It was really just for me at first until I started sharing it with colleagues.
I remember starting a blog called Imperfect Happiness that was my first home for my professional and personal writings, which sadly I erased ironically due to my own perfectionism. But before erasing it, my articles began to get good feedback that really resonated with clients and others and then I started to get more curious. What if writing was something I was meant to do?
What started off as a pure experiment to see what would happen, I submitted my first article to a well known publication.
Pleasantly, my first submission was accepted. And then my next and then my next. And then an offer to be a regular contributor to a publication and following to have my own column in a print magazine. It wasn’t until this year that I even started to consider myself a writer. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t believed maybe my voice had something important to say, which was really an extension of my own inner work on my own self confidence and life purpose.
Not everything I write is a winner. Some of my articles have been rejected and that’s ok. That’s not the reason I write. I write because it’s far better putting my voice out into the world than to always wonder what if.
I don’t want to die with my book still inside me and I don’t want that for you either.
There are many things that can keep us from putting our voice out into the world, but I think the fear of not being good enough is probably the biggest killer of dreams. I think we owe it to ourselves and owe to the world to do the inner work to heal those feelings so we can go forth in the direction of the calling that’s inside us.
When it’s all said and done, I’m a firm believer that your truth will always rise regardless of how many times you try and stifle it. If you’re reading this hoping to be a writer, you’re a writer. You’re an artist. It’s simply who you are.
I write because that’s who I am. Write because that’s who you are. I write because I like the poetry of words strung together and the rhythm they make when you selectively craft combinations. Write because you love the craft.
I write because maybe someone needs to hear my words. Write because someone may need to hear yours.
Write because there’s a desire inside you that won’t go away. It’s a calling for something more.