Dear Queen,
I saw this posted on facebook by Elizabeth Gilbert and I had
to write to you(myself) again.
For a while now I have been privately reflecting on my
voice.
What is my voice?
All those internal conversations while driving home in the
evening traffic have been filled with that question.
What is my voice?
Even those last minute conversations with God before I fall
asleep are filled with that question.
What is my voice?
What would I tell you about our voice if I met you? What was my voice like before? How has it
changed? How have we changed our voice by the circumstances of our life? Did we
ever have a voice?
This whole writing thing forces you to look within. It
really forces you to search within yourself. No one told me how much of writing
whether fiction or non-fiction requires one to pull out pieces of themselves.
Maybe I underestimated the depth of it. I am glad I did not dwell on it so much
in the beginning. I would have been too scared to write. Now here I am looking for pieces of myself to
leave in my stories to make them human.
What is my voice?
I don’t have a clear distinct voice.
I really don’t think I have one yet.
I know who I am supposed to be.
I know what I need to achieve.
I know people’s expectations of me.
But if you ask me who I am…. well we’d need to refer to God
for the answer…
You know what is so funny about this? I am not upset about it.
I am actually glad I can be at a place where I can separate the difference
between what I am supposed to do and who I am. I have space to choose. I can
navigate a bit better instead of hoping it all comes together the way it’s
supposed too. Isn’t that maturity?
Yes, I like this.
That was a little taste of my voice for you. Some confidence
and trust in my ability to handle uncertainty.
We have come a long way my dear.
Let’s keep growing.
Let’s enjoy this next phase of finding our voice. I like what the picture above says...I will catch myself.
Until I write again.
All the best,
Me.
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