How I Became a Writer Overnight

I know I can, be what I wanna be — Nas

I dragged my son across town to run the usual weekly errands. Frustration struck down like lightning once he had run out of snacks. I was on a deadline to get everything finished before he went into the infamous meltdown mode.

I went through a painful but very self-fulfilling mission of getting 3 parcels sent out at the Post Office. Long story cut short, the whole thing took nearly an hour, but the lady who served me was the most helpful assistant I have ever dealt with at the Post Office. Although the process of getting the parcels sent without me going bankrupt was excruciatingly long, it was thanks to this lady I even managed to not spend a fortune.

So when the recipients of the parcels receive them, I’ll be sure to tell them to thank that lady, not me, for I was ready to give up sending them at all and distributing them to random people in the streets to avoid using the Post Office again.

Within this trip into town, I had to order my new glasses which would require me to go into the opticians and have my eyes and the lenses measured. To pay for the glasses I needed to go through a credit check also, and I had been dreading doing this knowing it would take a while. I am just not keen on running errands and the thought of completing such tasks with my 21-month-old in tow just did not seem appealing.

But needs must, so I went in right after the anxiety-inducing but nevertheless unexpectedly good experience at the Post Office.

Son entertained by my handbag and its contents, I began to answer the questions the assistant asked in order to complete the credit check.

Employment status and Occupation came up and I hesitated for a millisecond.

What Am I?

I quit my job after my maternity cover finished earlier this year, so technically, I am unemployed for the first time since I finished university.

But I refuse to call myself unemployed just because I don’t have a paycheck or a boss.

I also hate saying “aspiring writer”.

Who calls themselves an aspiring software developer? Or an aspiring librarian?

Aspiring bartender.

Aspiring doctor.

Aspiring builder.

Nope. They all sound ridiculous.

I am a writer.

Whether I am a good or a bad writer, discovered or unfound, managed or self-managed, published or untold, I am still a writer.

But yet, I have never called myself that to anyone in a formal setting before. And I don’t want to stick to that label either. I don’t want to be narrowed down to just writing because I love to do so much. My passion can be portrayed in many ways. As I expand my knowledge, so will my opportunities to show them.

The Law of Attraction

I realised some time ago that The Law of Attraction is a real thing.

In Earl Nightingale’s words:

“We become what we think about.”

In the same way that looking only at our problems will attract more problems, we attract success if we constantly think of it. And what’s the easiest way of imagining that you’re successful?

By pretending that you are.

But it’s hard for me to imagine being a bestselling author, it’s hard imagining how I will be once I am more widely recognised by the world. I can however imagine the baby steps of that. I can imagine success on a much smaller scale, and then heighten my visualisations from there.

I reckon if I was to become famous tomorrow, I would not handle it well anyway. I’d become overwhelmed and dwell on a troll or a negative comment. But a slow increase in following allows room for expansion within my comfort zone without the panic attacks.

So, today, I am ready for an article to go viral and to be recognised as a writer on Medium, but I am not ready to face the world just yet. And I’m OK with that.

It is only this year that this quote by William Arthur Ward has fully ingrained itself in my understanding mind, despite having bought it for my husband years ago and stuck it on his office door myself:

“If you can imagine it, you can create it. If you can dream it, you can become it.”

If you’re like me, you’ll love inspiring quotes, but practicing them is far too difficult and uncomfortable.

For too long, I have been that person to talk that talk but not walk the walk.

But not today. Today, I told the lady at the Opticians that I am a writer and that I am self-employed.

She didn’t smirk in disbelief or become interrogative. She wasn’t fascinated nor dubious.

She did something I had not considered people would do upon telling them that I am a writer.

She nonchalantly accepted my answers and moved on.

And that’s one goal right there, achieved.

To be accepted for who I am, for who I want to be.

And that begins with accepting myself first.

Everything else will fall in line after that.

Thank you, Todd Brison, for inspiring this article.

Sylvia Emokpae, thinker and philosopher, is passionate about self-love, motherhood, and pro-race. See more work like this.