I Am (Not) a Writer

According to Merriam-Webster, a writer is “someone who has written something.”  Bing Dictionary offers up this definition: “somebody who can write: somebody who can write, who writes well, or who enjoys writing.” Hmmm…maybe I can call myself a writer after all, despite the doubts that surrounded me today.

You see, I don’t write for a living.  But in my job, I often work alongside people who do write for a living.  I’m the idea girl, and they’re the writers.  I get the concept together, and they make it sing.  These roles are clear, defined by our job descriptions and our peer sets and where are desks are at the office and what we put on our LinkedIn profiles.  They’re so clear that they make me feel like I need to be one or the other — becoming the BEST as one thing at the expense of others.  And this sometimes feels crummy and limiting, like it did today.

But thankfully, Bing Dictionary doesn’t agree with this point-of-view, defining a writer simply as “somebody who enjoys writing.”  How awesome is that?  I am a writer.  I am a writer.  I am a writer.  There, I said it (wrote it) out loud.  In fact, I am lots of things, even if they’re not at the core of how I earn money or what defines my personal brand.  Extrapolated out, if art makes my heart full even though I’ll likely never make anything a gallery would sell, I am still an artist.  And if I like to cook, even if just to keep my family healthy, I am still a cook.  And if I love to surf, but spend 99% of my time in the water rather than on my board, I am still a surfer.

One of the beautiful things about this world is that we can be so very many things…if we let ourselves live into them.  And as challenging as that is, as a writer/mother/runner/cook/artist/yogi/friend/daughter/wife/sister/surfer/traveler/adventurer…I’m sure going to try.