Despite officially prioritizing the relaunch of my Substack newsletter last week, I’m still very much fueled by my advocacy for writers and the written word in general.
Reflecting, I think I’m trying to prove something. That I’m not like so many others who seem to be just creating a Substack because they assume it’s the next possible income stream and trendy platform.
I genuinely love this space and the community around it. I LOVE writing. And have to get this advocacy out of my system before I move on to creating more variety in my writing topics. Please excuse both me, and these final 2 pieces around the topic of writers, creators, and the importance of their existence coming out this week.
I’ve noticed parents–new and veterans–slipping into the identity of parenthood as if it were a slinky silk robe embossed with the words “parent mode.”
And the world so easily accepts it.
A parent’s world and identity shifts drastically as soon as their child arrives, and every event–both mundane and exciting–can be documented and shared whether for relatability’s sake, or just as a form of self-expression.
The transition into parenthood, the love of it, the raw tabooed feelings, the tips & tricks, the behind-the-scenes, the tools… it’s all hungrily consumed by hundreds or even thousands of people who are in the same “club” or who want to vicariously live through it.
I’m just surprised I don’t see this mindset and lifestyle embraced more by writers and creators in general.
At most, I’ll see a handwritten encouraging Instagram post here and there telling creatives to “keep creating.”
That our work is needed.
That we shouldn’t give up on our craft.
But just like a parent of human babies, words of encouragement simply aren’t enough.
In fact, I think we specifically as writers have our own actionable identity we simply and easily could slip into, but may be too afraid to truly embrace: Writerhood.
Luckily a tiny, innocent human’s psyche isn’t at stake when we talk about Writerhood…
But our greatest potential is.
Our ability to shift and change the lives of others is at stake as well.
And, our chance at living a life we feel extremely fulfilled by is hanging in the balance.
Writerhood is an identity to embody, and a constant action to nourish your work and practice.
We have the chance to slip into this life and choose writing.
Choose our creative work and what it takes to embrace it as often as we can.
A fun way I’ve been looking at it lately is: W.W.J.D… but for writers.
What would writers do?
Every action you take is a step toward or away from the life you desire to create for yourself.
So we get to decide: what would a writer do?
Choose to read more Substack articles?
Financially support a writer or two?
Read a bit of a book rather than vegging-out on YouTube videos?
How do you, as the writer you wish to become, show up every day?
How do you take care of yourself?
How do you organize your writings?
What techniques help with writer’s block?
What boundaries have you set for your free time?
What does success look like to you?
What about discipline?
When’s free time, and what would you like to do during it?
Keep asking yourself these questions, writer.
Keep showing up in the role you desire to take on because there’s so much love for it.
Let’s create a community where we celebrate and connect over that lifestyle. We deserve to weave together action and encouragement behind the life we desire to create.
Bonus
After talking to a friend from an old mastermind I was in, these words came pouring out of me on May 20, 2021.
I never got a chance to post them until now; thank you for your company, Sadie!
If you’re a creative, then you’re a parent.
A parent to a dream I KNOW you’re struggling to believe in.
It’s hereditary, because in the same way you struggle to believe in your purpose…
Is the same way you struggled to get the loved ones around you to believe in you.
You’ve sought validation. Support. ANY ounce of strength that would tell you that everything would be okay if you made your heart happy.
But it never came.
So unknowingly, you carried that into the labor of every expressive piece you’ve birthed.
And resented it, and yourself--just a little-- for an existence that seemed to be in vain.
But what if you broke the cycle for your children?
Didn’t show up for your self-expression in the same way others refused to show up for you?
What if you worked on genuinely showing up with your whole heart?
So that the pieces of you that were once shut off from possibility now could see clearer.
With open arms toward all that could ever be possible for your life.
Rather than expecting the worst before you even try.
And remember those times when YOU tried?
When you ducked your head after a failed attempt at creativity?
When you refused to turn around to face a confident wall of “I told you so”s?
I know you don’t want the same for the creations you birth.
Doubt weaving into its DNA. Uncertainty emitting from your voice, your fingers, and every thought you have around how you truly want to show up in this world.
So when are you gonna break the generational curse?
And persevere for something you believe in?
Because believe it or not…
You can be the first person to believe in you.
Do any of these words resonate with you as a writer? A creative?
It makes sense in my head the phenomenon I see around becoming a parent and slipping into that identity and all its ups and downs.
I just want the same to be done with those who birth creative work, and feel I never see it.
An interesting take! Imagine if we were as in awe of, as consumed by, our writing as parents are with their children. Perhaps there's a line we have to draw to keep ourselves on track in terms of time management, but in thinking about it...children require time and attention. A lot of it. Careful attention, careful thought, careful nurturing. And the kind of attention we give (or don't give) to them is formative to who they become.
Many ways to apply this lens to our lives as writers.
This is so inspiring and so true, all of it. As both a parent and a writer I feel this in my bones.