Insecurities and Re-Prioritizing

               It’s amazing how insecurities can be paralyzing. I’m twenty-five years old and I’m just starting to become comfortable owning myself as a writer. I still blush when people praise my blog and sometimes I still have to make an effort to not deflect the compliment.

                I am a writer. I write. I love to write. I can’t ever really remember not writing. I am in the middle of writing a Christian romance novel. It’s taking a long, long, long time. Sure, life gets in the way, but I think the biggest issue is there are times I convince myself it is all drivel and I just stop writing.

        "This is stupid. This is lame. No one is going to want to read this. Hasn’t this story already been done?"

            Oh the inner dialogue of destruction. But it’s coming together! And you know what? It is a love story. It is in the Christian romance genre. And maybe there is nothing new under the sun, but no one has met and loved my characters, and they are what makes a story. So I am telling my inner nay sayers to shut up and I am working on it. I’m editing, cutting, adding, writing, re-writing and red penciling (well... actually it’s pink.) I’m going to finish it. And hey, I know my Mom will read it!

                My workspace may be the toy room floor, where I sit cross legged and spend a lot of time manoeuvring my binder and laptop out of Kadon’s reach, but my day feels so much more complete when I take the time to write. Why don’t we make doing what we love more of a priority in our lives? Sheldon and I sat down to talk about my writing and we came to the conclusion that if I wait for the laundry to be done, for the kitchen to be clean, for Kadon to be napping, for the stars to align just right; if I wait for the perfect time to write, it will never come. Perfect tomorrows never come. So I am looking at writing as my job, as my career, which is what I want it to be. I am not being lazy, I am not frittering away my time. When I’m writing, I’m working.  It’s funny how it seems I have to give myself permission to do something I love, something completely worthwhile. Writing is what I do, and it is part of who I am. It makes me happier, helps me to process, gives me a creative outlet, and ultimately makes me a better wife, mother, and all around person. Time for a priority shift. It’s going in the top five. I won’t be waiting to have time to write, I’ll be making time.