I sat around a u-shaped table with several others in a small room. It was the first meeting of the year. I was at a new university branching out of my comfort zone to entertain a curiosity and new found enjoyment of mine. It was a group for writers. I felt completely out of place, but somehow still like I was supposed to be there. There was this girl who read an excerpt from a book she was working on. An actual book. This chick was fresh in college and already writing a novel. I can still picture the room she had written about in my imagination. I was in awe of the beautifully crafted words she had strung together. It inspired me. I knew I was no where to that point, and I may never be, but I knew she would be a wonderful author one day. She already was a wonderful writer. I wish I could remember her name so I could look her up and find out if she’s finished that book yet.
After the meeting was over, I was standing outside the door chatting with some people from the group. Everyone was getting to know each other. The typical, “Hi, how are you?” “What’s your name?” “ Where are you from?” And so on as the casual talk goes. It’s been several years now, but I still remember standing there like yesterday. I was talking to two guys specifically. One was very kind. The other wasn’t so pleasant. I would later learn that this guy was simply a pessimist who always seems to be in a bad mood. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that then and my insecurity got the best of me after the conversation I had with them. They asked me how long had I been into writing. Hesitant to answer, I told them the truth. “Well, I’ve only really been to writing maybe a year or so.” I was responded to with a shocking, “What?!” Then I proceeded to tell them that I only discovered writing recently because I never in a million years thought it was something I would be interested in. However, at my old college, before I transferred, I realized through my English classes that it’s actually something I really enjoy. Plus I rediscovered my love of reading. The pessimist responded almost in anger, “You can’t just DECIDE to be a writer one day.” There it was. The little reminder that I was out of place. I didn’t belong. These weren’t my people and I was intruding on their safe space. These people were practically born writing, and I was just the person pretending. I would never be a real writer, whatever that means. The kinder guy attempted to counter with saying something along the lines of you could decide whatever you wanted whenever. I wish I could remember his words exactly. However, all I can remember is that he was very gentle in his response and tried to argue with the guy and encouraged me to come back. It’s funny how the negativity that feeds the insecurity that’s already there can be the thing that stands out in your mind and latch itself onto your memory if you let it. It’s the part that plays over and over.
I never went back.
The old saying about how you understand life backwards is true. In some ways, I wish I could go back and tell myself. It’s a lie! This rude guy is just feeding the lie you believe that you’re not made to be a “writer.” Go back to the group next week and find your place. However, if I could do that, I probably wouldn’t have learned and understood what I did years later. It’s not just this one instance that helped me learn, it’s just one of many, but it was an important one.
The thing I learned is really pretty simple. I discovered you don’t have to have everything all figured out and know everything you will ever love to do the second you’re born. That’s right. It took me a hella long time to figure out this ridiculously obvious lesson. Life is a journey, and I believe you find little pieces of yourself along the way.
The other thing I learned is that you don’t have to be at expert level the second you start. *gasp* I know. Shocker there. You actually have to practice whatever it is you love doing to improve your skill, even if it is a God given gift. You have to do your part and learn with experience and a ton of practice.
The biggest thing I learned is that it doesn’t matter if I’m good at it or not. It matters that I enjoy doing it. I always have an itch to write. It’s the way I best process my thoughts, talk to God, and even let go of things. I tend to communicate better in writing than speaking. I think I’m decent at it; however, I know I’m not going to be on NY’s Best Seller’s list anytime soon, and I’m 100% okay with that because I don’t do it to be the best. I hope I improve each time I write, but over all, I don’t care how good… or bad it is. I write because I love doing it even if it is just okay. Most of the time I’m writing in my private journal for me that no one will ever see because it’s just what my soul needs. Sure I have this blog, and I hope you find some encouragement here as well as a little entertainment. I share here what’s been put on my heart to share, but most of the time I’m writing for my own joy and clarity. I think it’s something I was made to do, but again, that doesn’t mean I think I’m the best writer in the world. I’m just me. A human who literally writes; therefore, a “writer.” The term doesn’t have to be so heavy. It can mean different things to different people and that’s okay.
My point is, I hope through this story, you see that everyone starts somewhere. It’s okay to find something you love doing later in life. There are several famous people who got their start at whatever it is later in life. Do a quick google search and you’ll see a ton of them. If you have a curiosity about something, a new hobby or whatever it is, just try it out. Remember it does NOT have to be good. Simply ask yourself, “Do I enjoy this? Does this feel right?” Even if your answer is maybe, keep at it until you know it’s a yes or a no. If it’s a honest no, move on. Life is about taking chances, finding your purpose, learning about yourself, and that means also learning what you don’t like. It’s okay to try it and not like it too.
This applies with anything, not just writing. Is there something you haven’t been doing or trying because you’re not a “real” fill in the blank? This is your sign to do it. Give it a try. Craft your skill. Do it for you first, then if you feel it’s something you’re supposed to share. Do that too. If it’s something you feel is just for you, then enjoy it as your little private thing.
Oh, and the pessimist ended up being in another club I joined (unrelated to writing) and over time, hearing him talk to various people, I realized he was just like that. However, it was already almost the end of my time at college.
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