When he didn’t know I was listening, I once overheard my husband describe me as: “a writer who’s trapped inside the body of a teacher, who’s trapped inside the body of an entrepreneur.”
In other words: She doesn’t self-describe as such, but she’s a writer.
It’s weird to hear a loved one's unfiltered perception of what you do best.
I suppose, somewhere inside, I’ve always known I’m a writer first. I’ve been writing in a committed way since fourth grade, when I wrote my first (unpublished, but complete) chapter book. And writing's the one thing I’ve consistently been praised for since my youth (especially by my mom 💖). But still, I’ve focused my professional energies on other roles—writing always in a supporting position to my primary gig.
But overhearing myself described as a writer felt like the whisper of a valuable secret. And from hearing his stripped down observation of me, about eight months ago, I somehow gave myself permission to lean into this central thing that I love to do: wri…
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