I should be used to challenges by now. I should be used to the fact that the things most worth having take work, and don’t come easy to me. I should be used to the struggle. And yet, the damn struggle always surprises me.
I have this friend, let’s call him Henry, and Henry is one of those people who just walk in the light. Born to privilege, given every luxury in life, his whole life, he has absolutely no idea what struggle is. He’s never felt it. Successful, wealthy parents who are loving and supportive. Private schools, the best education possible. Disgustingly good looks, the kind of looks where everyone stops to stare when he walks into a room. Women throw themselves at him, he’s never had to work for a woman in his life, so much in fact, that he doesn’t have to be faithful, because he is so up front and honest with them about his non-exclusivity, that they know what they’re getting into and don’t mind it one bit. He has finally found love, and is happily in a monogamous relationship, and even that transition from playboy to boyfriend he did flawlessly. His career took off immediately after college, and he simply has the easiest of life. At least that’s how it appears. Does Henry struggle? Perhaps. Would anyone ever know about it, other than him? Absolutely not. And from my perspective, Henry doesn’t struggle. Nothing is difficult for him. And how I wish I had his good fortune.
But alas, I am not Henry. I am me. And struggle seems to follow me. And my current new struggle I am finding is with my writing. Finding my voice is more challenging than I thought it would be. Even for this blog, I find it challenging to just talk as me, and not write what I think someone would want to read. But it’s a challenge I’ve more than accepted.
A writer must find their own voice, because, while imitation is a form of flattery, well, it is not what I want to be doing. They say ‘write what you know’. Well, I haven’t been. The projects I’ve worked on in the past were 100% fiction, often of a world I know nothing about. So, for my current projects, one of which I am completely throwing out and starting over with, I will write what I know. I will write the places I know. And the themes that I know. And I will find my voice. It’s going to be one hell of a challenge, as I’ve spent the last 36 years being silenced by an overbearing mother. I need to get ok with saying what I want to say. I need to let go of fearing judgment and rejection, and just write what I know. I need to embrace the challenge of finding my voice. Correction, I’ve embraced the challenge of finding my voice. And it starts today.
Ciao for Now