The writer in me...

Are you a writer?  Is there an inner monologue just dying to get out? 

Am I a writer or a blogger?  Both?  Are they the same?

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Pinterest: Lesley Muratella via postteenageliving.com

It's no secret that I love to write.  Well blog, if you will.  I have always had a love for writing and reading, but for some reason I didn't persue it until way later.  Like at 33 years old.  So why did I wait so long?

I was scared.  I was afraid that I wasn't really a writer.  That I really didn't have a voice or something to say.  It took me a full year to start a blog.  No seriously, I thought about it for a full year.  Now I'm wondering why I waited so long.

I started my blog to put down all the thoughts I had on motherhood, on identity crisis (my own), and on life.  I didn't know that it would be a place to work out all the things that were heavy on my heart.  I didn't know that it would make me think about my actions more clearly.  That it would help me filter the good and bad.  That it would expose me to others that thought like me and felt like me.  It was a blessing in disguise. 

My main goal was to reach out to others who were fumbling through motherhood like me.  To let them know that we needed to look at motherhood a little differently.  To loosen our grip on perfection.  I connected with so many people it's been AMAZING.

I want to be a writer.  I write all the time.  Like in my head when I'm supposed to be making dinner, or falling asleep.  I think about blog posts, and make up little short stories about my day.  Like in a narrative voice in my head.  Like a crazy person, I'm narrating my day like it's the next great American novel.  It's crazy right?  Well, if you too, consider yourself a writer then you may understand. 

I can't tell you how many poems have been written on napkins.  How many blog posts on old reciepts, ATM envelopes, or post it notes.  You shouldn't text and drive, but you shouldn't blog on the back of a paper giftbag and drive either.  True story.

I'm still afraid to say the word.  Writer.  I'm more likely to use the word "blogger".  Even then it gets stuck in my throat.  Why?  I have no idea.

I'm still trying to find my place in this blogging community.  You would think that after a year I would know who I am, and what I'm saying.  I still have no idea.  I still blog about whatever I feel like.  I like to think of my blog as my own, very public, journal.  So sometimes it's about fantasy, sometimes it's reality, but I promise it's all me. 

My voice.  My thoughts.  My life.

Blogging is my new hobby.  Writing is my life's passion. 

One day I just may call myself a writer, with confidence. 

For now I'm AbsoluteMommy.

What's your inner monologue saying?