Believing in oneself sounds like an odd way of pampering myself.
Let me explain. A couple of weeks ago, I applied for a writing class. Through a series of clicks from website to website, I learned about this class lead by an author of several published memoirs. As I read the class description and realized I had to send a writing sample, my inner mean girl said, “You’re not really a writer.”
When I was in middle school, I loved to write. I wrote poems. I wrote lots of angst-y poems (ugh). I wrote a short story about how our school lunch chicken nuggets stood up and started a revolution. I even started writing a novel about the first female president.
Then I started studying science, computer programming as well as theatre and costumes in college. Sure I had to write term papers and essays for class but I hated doing it. I wrote them because I had to. I was also deep in the world of dramatic arts.
Fast forward to Blogalicious 2009. Inspired after the conference, I started this blog and Cup of Creativi-Tea. Ideas for blog posts started coming from everywhere. I carried around a notepad to write down all my ideas. I even wrote a blog post while riding the train.
After I told hubby about this class, the first words out of his mouth were, “Apply!” I started to say, “But. . .”
“Apply.” Even if I didn’t believe in myself, my best friend did. Never mind that this class was on a weeknight and he’d have to rearrange his work schedule for 6 weeks so I could attend. He’s amazingly supportive. Anytime I run an idea by him, he tells me to just do it.
I looked back at my blogs now. I’m a writer. I enjoy writing and sharing my thoughts and ideas to others. I might not have a desire to pen novels, but I want to share my experiences with others.
So, I applied for the class. Sending someone a writing sample as an application into a writing class was outside my comfort zone. But I did it anyway. It wasn’t because a published author would critique it. It wasn’t because it was a complete stranger reading it (especially since I have never met some YOU in person).
It was because I put myself out there, asking to be judged.
I’m ok with that now. I gave myself permission to have confidence in myself.
I am a writer.
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In case you’re wondering, I’m on a very short waitlist for the class. Keep your fingers crossed!