I say I'm a writer...
But why do I feel like a fraud?
For the past decade, I’ve had several work incarnations. Upon graduation, I started off as an online marketer, then became a customer service agent, a teacher, a subtitles translator, a corporate trainer, a project manager, a human resources professional, a content creator.
And most recently… a writer.
Some of the roles were culminations of lifelong passions, some merely fillers during times when I didn’t know what to do with myself. But none presents quite the conundrum “writer” does: I feel utmost pride and joy introducing myself as one, but at the same time, I also feel the intense insecurities of a fraud, an imposter, a fake-writer.
When I got my current job working for an internationally known, bestselling author back in 2020, I began introducing myself as, “I work for [insert author name].” Then, as I became more confident and branched out in my role, I began introducing myself as a “content creator.” It wasn’t until I joined a Substack workshop earlier this year and made writer friends that I became sufficiently emboldened to call myself a “writer” and count myself among their ranks.1
“I’m a writer.”
The dictionary meaning of “writer” is a person who writes books or articles to be published. I write these posts every week, publish them as a newsletter and on Medium. So by that count, I am a writer.
But each time I introduce myself as one, I do so tentatively. I qualify my statements with but’s. I don’t launch into a passionate exposition of what it is I do as a writer, of my accomplishments, unlike when I talk about my subtitles translation where you’d be lucky to get me to shut up after the bar closes and everyone has left.
Each week, I write. I write for my day job. I write this newsletter. I’m sometimes even paid to write for others. It is the activity that takes up the most of my hours, and one that brings me the deepest fulfilment.
So why do I always feel like a fraud when I say, “I’m a writer”?
What will it take?
I’ve been writing this newsletter for over a year, and have amassed a solid readership of friends and kindred strangers. The numbers may not be high, but the people who do read my writing seem to get something—dare I say a lot?—out of it.
Once in a while, I’ll get reader feedback that warms my heart: “That post really made me think,” a piece was “masterfully done” and they “loved all of it,” someone on Twitter saying they’re “glad I found your newsletter.”
Just the other day, I discovered a tweet about how people who write online exert more influence than they can ever know, because most people—no matter how deeply touched or changed—won’t explicitly like or comment on something you’ve published. So for each like you get, there may actually be five other people whose lives you’ve touched. You just don’t know it.
I’m not one to be shy about my strengths, and I’m deeply proud of the milestones I’ve reached, the projects I’ve executed, the challenges I’ve overcome in the first decade of my myriad careers.
I’m a fairly confident writer. I think I write well. And I’ve been told so by others. So why am I so cagey about introducing myself as a writer? Where does this deep-seated insecurity come from?
I write stuff. People read it. And some say it’s changed the way they think. So why is it not enough? What’s it going to take for me to stop feeling like a fraud?
What readership will that require? What if I have thousands of readers? Tens of thousands?
Or maybe it’s being paid for my writing. What if I have dozens, maybe hundreds, of paid subscribers?
Or maybe we need to be published the traditional way. What if one day that memoir I started but never finished gets published and becomes a bestseller?
Will one—or all—of the above be enough?
What do you think?
Have you ever been in a similar dilemma where you’re doing something but don’t feel qualified to say you do it for a living? If you have, I’d love to hear from you:
How do we stop feeling like a fraud?
What’s it going to take? Is there a magical threshold we have to cross? Is it a question of experience, confidence, or perception? Is this a universal conundrum or is it all in my puny head? Send a reply, leave a comment, share this with someone who has no trouble saying what they do.
Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
Photo by Art Lasovsky on Unsplash
I’ve skipped the rung of “aspiring writer” entirely. It’s a term widely used, but which I can’t get behind. What is an aspiring writer, if not a writer? Why must some qualify themselves in this way, while not others? To me, anyone who characterises themselves as “aspiring” is merely doing themselves a disservice. As the wise Yoda once said, “Do or do not. There is no try.”
I think the fraud feeling being a writer comes from the traditional mindset of giving value with our writing. I think the joy of being one is that we can share our thoughts and make an impact in people's lives. Having massive followers/readers is a direct and more obvious feedback for our efforts.
However, I think what we forget is how much indirect impact could be meaningful and helpful in ways we cannot imagine. That we can create a movement in a person's brain to shift their thoughts and behaviors that could lead them to a better positive outlook on life. We don't see this feedback loop, but it's what fuels us to share and write in the first place. We share our thoughts as reflections, as a mirror, so others can learn more about their life through our experiences and forge a path for improvements and a better future.
If you call yourself a fraud, I am too. I remembered my experience in a college for a class I needed to attend to get this student leadership role. The feedback I got was mostly how bad I am at writing. But I did get into the team and the job because of something greater than traditional academics to be helpful for prospective students.
Now, I have a habit of writing my thoughts and reflections. Although still inconsistent, I do call myself a writer. Even as I feel insecure about grammar and the rules of writing, I'll probably be stubborn to learn it all again since I'm not a big fan of rules, haha. The most important thing is, I am a writer because I am a story teller. I am a writer because I am filled with life experiences. And I want to surround myself with writers because I have some things to say and to learn.
So, let's cheer on our ongoing journey as writers. Mine is still a long way to go as I want people to be able to play my life stories as I write my reflection on life. But, thanks for being one of the flames that helps to affirm this journey forward.
The question that pops into my mind is, does it depend upon the context in which you are introducing yourself?
For example, if you are describing yourself in terms of your primary vocation, perhaps you aren’t a writer. (Then again, arguably, you are.) but if you are describing yourself in terms of your interests, talents, or passions, “I am a writer” might be entirely fair game.