I am participating in a writing contest: “You Are Enough”, hosted by Positive Writer. Here is my contribution.
We Are All Enough
When did I start hearing the call to be a writer? I think it was the same as when I discovered my love for horses. It was always there, waiting to be found and experienced.
Writer’s in the Family
My grandpa wrote his memories in little stories, incidents including other family members and his own happenings growing up. None of his writings made it into print except through the good heart of someone who collected these writings and had them typed and bound. The books were distributed among friends and family members. I have my treasured copy that I’m proud to own.
The other “writer” in the family was my mom. She mainly wrote in her little diary’s. She wrote a couple of articles about when churchpeople hurt her feelings. I’m happy to say I have these precious words of my mother safe in my possession. Mama never had anything
published either, but I don’t think she tried or even had the thought.
My brother has a couple of articles published, but he has not pursued this and has been years since has written anymore.
Then there is me and my calling to write
I always thought I would own horses, train them, show them in shows, barrel race in rodeos. These were my dreams growing up. They are broken dreams now. I had a few horses and did do some training with my own horses and I participated in a horse show or two, but the dream didn’t materialize as I’d envisioned it.
My thoughts found themselves on paper on occasion. In junior high an English assignment came out as a Halloween story. My teacher asked me to read it in front of the class. Everyone liked it and needless to say I passed the assignment.
Over the years I wrote here and there, a few poems made their way on the pages. Poetry was not my forte, but it was fun. I much preferred the stories and yearned to write
like Jo March in Little Women.
Even though I read that Halloween story out loud, that was a requirement. For the most part I did not like showing my writing to anyone. I may have shown some to my mom, but that was it.
I never thought anything I wrote would or could be good enough for anyone else to read, let alone like what I wrote. I kept my writing to myself.
It wasn’t until I took a correspondence writing course that some confirmation came my way, that maybe my writing wasn’t so bad, and people would like to read my words.
During this course it was required to interview people and write articles. I was able to do this through my church. The pastor agreed to be interviewed along with various church members. The pieces were typed up and published in our little newsletter. Everyone enjoyed the articles, learning fun facts and family history of our church members.
In the meantime I continued on with the writing course and wrote more
articles. The day the check came in the mail for my first aritcle sold threw me over the moon. I finally shared with others my excitement. My head stayed in the clouds for days after. I was a real writer now. But little glitches came up with this dream too.
From there my writing went to the local paper and writing about the town
bowling leagues and happenings. This was lots of fun because I was a bowler so had firsthand experience.
Next, the venture took me into the local news and covering town counsel meetings and
other town happenings. I interviewed old-timers and people who
entered items in the county fair as well, as part of my newspaper writing.
My journalistic career lasted about eight months. Then the paper was sold and the new owner and editor and myself didn’t see things the same way. On the day that I was going to give notice, they gave me notice. So we parted ways. My writing suffered. I was devastated even more thinking I wasn’t up to the standards these newspaper people thought I should have. I would discover later that it was a good thing to be
out of there. People in the area weren’t that happy with the way the
paper was going.
Are We Good Enough?
Even with a few people, who knew me giving me praise on my writings, it wasn’t enough. I still ached with those niggling thoughts of I’m not good enough, who cares what I write or that I write? To be totally honest those thoughts are always in the back of my mind.
The phrase, “I’m not good enough” is getting to be a cliche. But it is a viable phrase and holds people back from dreams. It holds me back. It’s a continuing fight to push through it and write anyway, share what I write, and keep pursuing the dream.
I believe everyone should share their writings. Find a group, either in your hometown or online. Keep at your craft whether that be writing or any other endeavor. You, me, all of us are good enough, always have been. Can you believe it? Please do and I will too. We
just need to believe in ourselves and go for it.
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