Writing for myself?

I started a different post weeks ago that I may or may not finish. And other than texts, a thank you note and some Halloween cards, I’ve written nothing. I’ve written in my head (I talk about that here), but I wasn’t motivated to put any words out there. I wanted to, and I still do, which is why I’m pounding out some sentences here in my personal writing space–this blog I’ve had for several years that helps me with my ideas, thoughts and writing practice.

The truth is that I’m tired of worrying about my writing. Why can’t I just write? Why can’t it be as easy as just sitting down and writing? Words on paper or words on screen or whatever. Why do I care so much about other people’s thoughts and opinions? Why do I care if they like what I have to say or not? We’re all the same. Nobody’s better than anyone else. Sure, there are better writers than me, but why should I let them keep me from doing what I know I’m meant to do? Why does it matter so much if someone thinks I suck?

The hard and easy truth is it doesn’t matter at all. Not at all. There are countless writers out there. I’m just one in this little corner of western PA using my writing to help me get through the days and years. I’ve always loved writing, but I’ve always allowed others to make me feel like I don’t deserve to love it and I’m not good at it.

I shouldn’t care, but I still do. But I am a writer. I’ll always be a writer. It’s what I do and I regret that for big chunks of time, I didn’t write because I was scared, because I didn’t want to feel judged. I didn’t want to feel like a loser. But do you know what I learned? If I have the drive and the heart to put my words out there, I’m a successful writer. And nobody has the right to make me feel otherwise. If they do judge or criticize, it’s from their own lack of self-esteem or they’re just plain jealous or envious. Some people are just hateful.

I’ve put my poetry and three novellas out into the world. I’ve been writing blogs for nearly twenty years. It’s out there and there’s more to come. I’m tired of the worry, the fear, scared I won’t feel like a real writer. I’m tired of not marketing my books because I fear rejection and ridicule. If you don’t like my writing, that’s okay. I’ve always thought that my writing is for me. I write to feel, to work through issues, to heal. Writing makes me feel alive and worthy. Whether I share what I write with the world or not, it’s mine.

And I don’t write for money. I’ve written about money before and I don’t feel any differently now. While it would be lovely to make money from my books, I don’t count on it. I know there are few writers who make enough to pay their bills. For me money and shame go together. I’ll explain. As a child, I wasn’t encouraged or inspired to be a creative writer. I received smiles and small praise for what I was told was a “hobby,” but I needed to find something that would become a career. Career equals money. But all I wanted to do was be a writer. I didn’t know what that would look like in my adult years and I was scared and knew I needed to make money, but I had little to no confidence.

I understood what I was told and accepted it, but I also hated it. To this day, my writing doesn’t pay the bills and maybe it never will. I often wonder if I could’ve been financially successful if encouraged, but life led me down different paths and I’m here on this blog right now.

I know that I don’t write just for myself. I write for those who have read my work, who follow my work and believe in me. For all my readers. I write, hoping I’ll find new readers. I write, hoping I’ll entertain, enlighten and inspire. I love reaching people with my writing. A few years ago, I wrote a tribute to a beautiful, talented, special woman whom I never met, but felt I knew in some way. To this day, I receive messages thanking me for writing about her. I’ve heard from her childhood friend, her niece, a man who claimed she was the first love of his life. Beautiful stories. Heartbreaking memories. This is a big reason why I write. Connection.

But today, I needed to write this piece for myself. I needed to get it down, work out everything I’ve been thinking and feeling about my writing lately. Tomorrow, I may write for my friends, my readers, my future readers. Maybe I’ll write for possible future money. Maybe I’ll do it because I just have to. But mostly, I’ll write because that’s what I do. I write. No matter what, I write.

For me:

Writing is spiritual.

Writing is necessary.

Writing is love.

Writing is healing.

Thank you for letting me write today. It always helps.

How is your writing going?