Recently, a blogging friend chose to use a post of mine as the foundation of a task she was to complete as a book club exercise. I was honored. And surprised. Surprised by her warmth and acceptance of not only me but also me-the-writer.
Sometimes I forget I’m more than a mom.
With my friend’s insight, I learned a little bit more about me-the-writer. I was reminded I could write in my own candid, often humorous style and still provide thought provoking words at the same time. I don’t have to choose. I can just be me-the-writer.
When I write, my mind is full of words and phrases and meanings and, well, it’s a bit untamed in there when I’m in my zone. Call me crazy but I don’t have a process. When I’m able to get hold of a solid block of time, I simply open a blank page and let the words flow.
This is when I remember I’m more than a mom.
I was once asked if I had just one piece of advice to give other bloggers and writers, what that might be. I generally don’t give advice for any reason but I did put this out there because I believe it passionately: Be true to yourself. Allow the uniqueness of you to shine when you write.
It’s not easy to trust yourself enough to write as you are. But when you discover trust and belief in your writing, even if it’s fleeting, you discover a new source of absolute freedom.
I’m reminded again I’m more than a mom.
I’m at a point in my life where more often than not, I find writing is about being a mom. If you’ve read some of my other posts, you know I write about my kids a lot. It’s not because I don’t have tons of other writing material sailing about in my head. It’s because my children truly inspire me to write.
Proudly, I never forget I’m more than a writer.
For as long as I remember, two words have floated together in my thoughts as if stuck with glue. Writing. Legacy. Me-the-mom has it figured out. Me-the-writer has yet to organize the two to create one. But I’m confident it’s only a matter of time. Thanks to the encouragement of special people like my dear blogging friend, Jennifer.
