I wrote something recently for an assignment that said to the effect, “I don’t need writing to save me any longer.”
It’s been sitting heavy on my chest, stirring around in my gut. Prompting me to write this.
I’ve already submitted the paper so I can’t alter it, but it’s not totally accurate. It’s not what I meant to say, completely. Writing saves me every day. Writing has saved me my whole entire life. Writing, words, the ability to string a sentence together that makes you known? What is better than being known? What is more powerful?
I am more in control of myself and my future and my path. I don’t need writing to be my only option of succeeding any longer. That should have been the sentence because writing saves me every day.
And what a good thing that is.
30-something Mississippi queer. Bleeding heart with a soft spot for honesty and oversharing. Conquering corporate America and my own insecurities– one day at a time.