I have come to find that there is a discrepancy between who we want to be and who we actually are.
I like to walk around the house while singing whatever pops into my head. Sometimes it’s even just the national anthem. I can’t really sing, but I enjoy it and it’s fun. Does that put me on par with Whitney Houston though? Should I call myself a singer?
You would probably answer no. As most people would concur, my lousy “around the house or in the shower” singing does not make me comparable to some of the greatest singers in the world.
With that in mind, that’s why I have a confession for you today: I’m not a real writer.
No, there are no ghost writers or any other weird shit lurking around here (though there may be actual ghosts). Everything you’ve read has been written by me and only me.
But I’m a nobody. I’m no J.K. Rowling or James Patterson or Steven King or Danielle Steele. I’m not even a E.L. James (which I frequently give thanks to God for).
I write things but it doesn’t matter. Very few people, if anybody, ever see them. I don’t make any money off my writing. I don’t have fans knocking on my door and asking me for more, please.
Therefore, I am not a real writer, because if I were, I would have all of those things, right?
The reason I say “the end” is because that is the same speech I always give myself when I’m feeling like an imposter. Good ole’ imposter syndrome. I write things, but I’m not rich and famous, so I must be an imposter. Simple as that.
I always have to remind myself, though, that there is more to the story.
For instance, let’s compare my singing and writing habits. I sing whenever I feel like it. I don’t care about getting any better or improving my “craft”, and I don’t spend hours watching lessons and coaching sessions about it. I just think it’s kinda fun.
Writing, on the other hand, is basically my second job that I volunteer at. I write after my day job when I’d rather be napping. I write on weekends when I’d rather be spending time with my husband. I write at work when I should be doing my other work (true story…I’m a bit naughty.).
Even on days like today, you will see me cranking new things out. I feel crappy at the moment and have had a fever for the past two days. All I wanted to do today was stay in bed all day. But I refused. One day not writing, not improving my craft, is a day wasted.
I do feel like an imposter sometimes, simply because I do all this work and it feels like nobody cares sometimes. But that’s okay though.
It’s okay if nobody cares, it really is. I do it for me. I do it because I simply can’t not do it.
It may sound like I’m forcing myself to write, but I’m not. I don’t have to force myself to write. I actually have to force myself to do everything else.
Stopping to go to work? Taking a break for lunch? Shutting down for the night so I can get some sleep before I start again? Those are the things I have to force myself to do.Writing comes to me more naturally than eating or sleeping. Click To Tweet
And if that’s not a writer, then I don’t know what is.
What do you do when you struggle with self-doubt and confidence issues? Let me know, and share on your social media if you enjoyed this?