I’m a little over a month into blogging and I thought about quitting. I was getting uncomfortable. The words weren’t coming easily, the inspiration I needed was lacking, I didn’t want to fight the inner critic telling me it was all for naught. I knew it wasn’t true. Putting pen to paper, hearing the clickety-clack of my fingers on the keyboard, writing down words, putting together sentences was giving me life. It was bringing me back to myself, allowing me to find room to breathe. Forming sentences, finding the necessary words, making my brain think- I was beginning to feel human again.
I love my days as a stay at home mom. I don’t ever want to take this life that I was given for granted, to talk about it negatively. But it is hard, it is frustrating, and I feel like I am failing on a daily basis. I love my kids, I love that I am the one who gets to see them grow every day. I am the one that they rely on, hug on, and talk to. There are times when I need a break, though, margin in my day to create space in my overcrowded mind. Thinking of and writing essays has become my escape. I find space throughout my day to pocket inspiration to come back to later. I look forward to the part of my day when I get to see what comes of those droplets of inspiration I gathered, see if anything forms. It is because of my kids that I have come back to writing after all of these years (nearly a decade). And I am thankful to them for helping me find myself after I had lost me- because of motherhood, failed dreams, life. I am thankful that, when the words do come and the inspiration smacks me in the face, I can do something with it, put it somewhere other than a back corner in my mind.
I knew in my heart I didn’t want to quit. I didn’t want to give up so easily, especially something that I didn’t expect much out of, except to clear the clutter in my head. But the inner critic kept telling me I’m not a writer, that I shouldn’t be wasting my time. It decided to show it’s ugly head when I saw a writing intensive I wanted to take but didn’t want to spend the money on. I knew it would be beneficial to me. I want to call myself a writer, I want to believe that I can be. I had butterflies whenever I thought about it. When I talked to my husband, he told me to do it. If it was something I wanted or needed to do, then I had his blessing. Without even really knowing my dreams (because I still won’t speak them out loud/ because I’m still not quite sure what they are) he believes in me. I am grateful he’s helping me find my way. I signed up for this 3 hour, online writing intensive. And I am so glad I did. I have something to look forward to that is just for me, I don’t get to say that very often as SAHM.
The other thing I did when I thought I was going to throw in the towel was buy a domain name for my blog. Now, this is something I am paying money for and that makes it harder for me to want to quit. It is the push I need to write more without feeling overwhelmed or frustrated. It is still my space, I still get to call the shots. I just have more motivation.
I’m also submitting pieces to online publications. I am not getting my hopes up, I am not putting my worth in being published. I am doing it, honestly, just because it feels right. Because it is exciting (and terrifying). Because I want to grow and get better, this seems like a good way to do that.
I don’t want to let fear win, I don’t want the inner critic to get the last word. I want to believe in myself. I want to stay where it feels uncomfortable and find a way to be comfortable.* So I’m getting comfortable calling myself a writer. I’m getting comfortable making writing time a priority (I’m even willing to wake with the sun in order to get uninterrupted time in. Lord help me). I’m getting comfortable not knowing what I’m doing or where I’m going.
*this blog post was the push I needed. It’s also her writing intensive I am taking