Leaning Into My Writer Identity
Why it's so hard to "permit" myself to write
Hello and welcome to Mature Content, a newsletter about lifelong learning, where I offer tools, insights, and resources for personal growth and discovery. This is the monthly installment of Good Insights, where I offer an insight about something I’m learning at home, at work, or in life.
The start to 2025 was unusually busy for me. I launched this substack, delivered several weekend workshops, and traveled more than usual for work. I was routinely waking up at 5 am in January and February to squeeze an extra hour into my day.
Then, seemingly overnight, things slowed down at the beginning of March. While most people would welcome this return to a “healthy pace,” I froze. I literally didn’t know what to do with myself. This, despite the fact that I’m working on a memoir, and am always saying that I need more time to write.
The Portfolio Mindset
Like many, I embraced a portfolio career in later life. In my career as a communications professional, I offer workshops, coach people one-on-one, and occasionally do the odd editing job. That’s my paid work. I also spend a great deal of time writing, as well as doing volunteer work to get out the American vote overseas. The first pays a bit (thank you Substack subscribers!); the second does not.
But a portfolio career is much more than a variety of different income streams and activities. It’s also a mindset. A portfolio mindset means that even when you’re pursuing the non- or low-paying components of your portfolio, you value those identities just as much as those connected to your paid work.
Easier said than done.
The Deserving Mindset
Part of the reason I struggle with downtime is that I’m very rule-bound. So if I typically only spend one hour a day writing, and eight hours “doing real work,” it’s hard for me to break out of that routine.
But it’s not only my inner swim coach who’s my own worst enemy. I think that on some level, when faced with the natural ebb and flow of work as a company of one, I’m reluctant to privilege my writing hat. It feels…self indulgent.
I think that on some level, I’m reluctant to privilege my writing hat. It feels…self indulgent.
Years ago, I did an exercise with a life coach where I got in touch with my “future self.” I not only had to describe this future self - what she looked like, where she lived - but have a conversation with her. It was all very woo-woo, but also remarkably revealing.
Towards the end of the exercise, my future self presented me with a gift. My gift was a fountain pen, similar to one I’d used for years to write my morning pages, but had misplaced. As I explained to the coach, once I lost that pen I never replaed it. I had decided that I didn’t deserve a fancy pen. So, I started using a regular one.
Needless to say, the life coach picked up on the term “deserving.” Clearly, my future self was telling me that I was worthy of a fancy pen. Translated: I was worthy of believing in myself as a writer.
Clearly, my future self was telling me that I was worthy of a fancy pen. Translated: I was worthy of believing in myself as a writer.
Gaining Legitimacy
I’d like to tell you that once things slowed down work-wise, I managed to churn out three chapters of my book . But that would be a lie. I have been writing - every day, like I always do - but I’ve rarely exceeded my normal hour.
What I did do that was new was to sit down with a list of literary journals I got Becky Tuch’s fabulous Lit Mag News. I went through her March list systematically to identify potential outlets for a piece I’m shopping. I also applied to three different summer writing residencies, and blocked out time in my calendar to look at Erika Dreifus’ terrific list of non-fee paying residencies.
I can’t tell you how long both of these items have sat languishing on my “To Do” list. This month, I finally scratched them off. Was tackling these tasks as good as completing another chapter in my book? No. Did I feel more like a writer as I did these things? Yes, I did.
The key, I think, is to smart small. By executing a small set of tasks connected to my writer self, she began to flourish. Before long, writerly tasks begat more writerly tasks. Somehow, in the doing, I felt more legitimate as a writer…to myself.
How about you? Have you ever found yourself pining to write more but then, presented with the opportunity, unable to follow through? Why?