Jeff says that great writers believe in themselves and so should I. And he also acknowledges that that is often easier said than done.
I have to believe that I am meant for more than ‘this.’ At the risk of sounding egotistical, I’ve always sort of thought that. Or hoped it, rather. Though I’ve been very blessed with a wonderful husband and three beautiful, healthy children, and general health and happiness, I’ve always felt like something was missing. Because of this, there are times when I get really down on myself, thinking, “What the heck is wrong with me?!” or “What do I have to be depressed for?!” And then it’s a vicious cycle, beating myself up more and more for feeling bad and then feeling bad because I’ve been beating myself up. Then, ultimately thinking either I should be happy with what I have and not ask for anything more – because that would just be selfish; or that I don’t deserve what I do have, so I can’t possibly be meant for anything more. And then there I am again, the same. With only hope.
I complained once that my husband didn’t think I could ever actually write a book because when I told him the story I wanted to write, he tried to change my mind and get me to write something “easier first.” He also told me maybe I should try short stories and I took offense to that, like he was insinuating I didn’t have the stamina for a book. I don’t know why I thought that. I love short stories. It’s just fear and excuse taking over. Even hope was gone.
About a week or so ago, he read something I’d written and posted elsewhere on the web. He sent me this email:
#1 there is a “of” that may should of been an “up” in the second quote from the book….not sure of that
#2 I think your talent is amazing. you really really really need to write a book (or patch together some of your blog thoughts into a book)……i think with the talent you have there has to be spot in your soul that feels empty if you are not doing what god gifted you to do….i AM sure of this one
Sent from my Droid Charge on Verizon 4GLTE
If that’s not support, I don’t know what is. That’s not fear or excuse. It’s not even hope. It’s faith. He believes in me. It’s about time I started believing in myself as well.