On belief

I used to believe in myself.

I mean, really believe in myself. I honestly thought that I'd be a successful writer one day. I really didn't have any doubts. Unlike the last couple of years, when I've couched everything in a disclaimer. "I want to be a writer." "I'll find out if I can do this."

Some of that is humility, and I honor that. But some of that is just plain doubt. When I was a kid, I didn't doubt because I knew there was one thing I had to--was compelled to--do: write.

And since that time, I've allowed people--some out of love--to stifle me. I've allowed the have-a-back-up-plan-advice-givers, the it's-hard-to-be-a-writer-and-make-a-living-mentors, the you're-not-good-enough-for-our-student-publication-classmates to creep into my inner space. They drowned out all of you who told me to dream, encouraged me to reach, and believed in me. More importantly, they drowned out my own still, small voice, or rather I stopped listening. And that's what this year has meant to me: listening to myself again.

And now I've decided to become again what I never was. Like my seven year old self, I'm going to jot down all my ideas and write bad poetry. Like my fifteen year old self, I'm going to believe I can make it. As my new twenty five year old self, I'm going for it.

And as Sara Bareilles just said in concert, "This is a song about people who should mind their own damn business." Well, this is a life about the same.