I am a poet!
(Cried the young woman into the wind)
There is nothing more unusual to a young writer than actually declaring who they are to the world, in such a direct manner. We lie and we flap our hands and say ‘I just write a little’ and ‘it isn’t anything really’ when inside our hearts the ink of our nature is bleeding out.
However, any writer knows that they are constantly growing and changing, and this is a big reason why we hide our nature from our worlds. ‘I’m not a real –‘ is a phrase I hear often, and I use it constantly. We decide that being published or writing a thousand pages or being a morose drunk in a townhouse of lower London is what will make us real. Of course the truth is that if one is putting pen to paper* they are forever a writer; they have transitioned from modern individual into timeless creator.
For any writer reading this, try being honest about who you are once a month. Affirmations are usually daily, but we are artists and time restrictions are just another thing to break in the name of beauty and desire. You don’t have to be honest to anyone but yourself, which is helpful because writers are the world’s best liars, so much so that we convince ourselves of a myriad of nonsensical things. We convince ourselves that we have no voice, that our voices are chained to our bodies, that no one will hear us. Every moment we write one more letter, we communicate a little further, and our voices become that much stronger.
Keep in mind that in Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll allows Alice exactly six impossible things to believe before breakfast.
We only ask you believe in one.
*Other methods also accepted.