Editor’s Note: See Jane Write now publishes personal essays by writers who identify as women, non-binary folks, and our allies. Learn more here.
By Sherilyn Anderson
I’ve dreamed and often fantasized about being a writer for more than half of my 55 years. Life-threatening uterine cancer pushed me to pursue writing seriously because falling back on my previous profession, a high school English teacher, to support myself is no longer an option. I believe that sometimes God puts us in situations where we don’t have a choice but to make moves in life that we don’t dare to do on our own.
I started working with a writing coach and I started journaling to help build a writing routine. Because of journaling, I’m writing more and I’m getting faster. Even though I’m developing a groove and routine, it still feels like a piece is missing from my writing puzzle. When I couldn’t determine what it was, I asked my writing coach when will I feel comfortable calling myself a writer. She told me that I am a writer because I write, but she couldn’t answer that question for me. I am grateful she didn’t have an answer because it provided an opportunity for me to slay a sneaky dragon.
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