RobArt Penguin

One of my struggles as a writer, is to write with my true voice. Often after writing I am unsatisfied to some degree because I don’t feel I was authentic. It’s an idea that there is some magic style of prose that when I use it I will feel nirvana. Ironically, many who read my writing believe I have a clear voice. Yet, that does not console me. I am reminded of a story I read in a career book about a man searching for work fulfillment, to discover that his most passionate project was an invention he kept in a safe place. His answer to work happiness was right there–not in front of his face–but under the bed. I have come to realize that knowing my voice is connected to self-acceptance. If I believe that I have something valid to say and the way I say it is perfectly fine, my self-acceptance becomes my authentic voice. Writing for me has been a process of turning off the censors in my head that either misdirect me or lead me to doubt my writing. There’s dust bunnies under my bed, but my voice is with me in plain sight. It comes out truthfully and better than I know. Each day, I get a little more confident that I’m on the right track.