A few weeks ago, I made an important decision ā I decided to let go of my biggest and most favourite freelance client.
Some of you may know this about me and some may not ā in my other life, I work as a freelance content writer. Having one foot in content writing and marketing is how Iāve sustained my life and creative endeavours over the past eight years.Ā
So letting go of this client was a tough decision. And when I finally communicated it to them, I spoke my truth ā the 3+ years weād worked together were fantastic, but Iād given all I had to offer. I now needed to rest and reset, maybe even look for more heart-centered work.
All this goes smoothly, and then I start thinking, what next?
Although I had no such intention when making the decision, my mind immediately reached out for things I could create, now that Iād have the time ā I could finally write that book, turn my drafts and crafts into the projects Iād envisioned and launch them, make another 10 (?!) zines, get back to pitching essays to publications I want my work in, design a workshop, you get the gist.Ā
Before long, I found myself awake at 4 a.m., obsessing over the āright writing projectā to pick up once I closed work with my client. All this, even though last year, when I turned 30, I decided to take a two-year break from any major writing to focus on building my life.Ā
This need to lead a Writerās Life and make the Right Things was a familiar one.Ā I knew this call and the distress of both heeding to and ignoring it.
Donāt get me wrong, through most of my twenties, writing has been a big answer. It was exactly what I needed when heartbreak and trauma and bad decisions and terrible therapy slashed into my life. It gave me power and agency, helped me understand myself and my story, and taught me thousands of creative solutions to get through a day. I had a craft that was capable of so much, and I used it in every way I could.
But itās also had a shadow side that I talk of less often: In my late twenties, my obsession with creating stunted me.Ā
I made things on a page to distract myself from actually making a life. I built narratives to shield myself from the uncertainties of this world. I invested my whole identity in being a writer, believing that succeeding there would give me all the validation I needed to cement who I am. In turn, I stopped engaging with the multi-dimensional person I actually was.
I cannot proceed without sharing with you that I am someone who has severe mental health struggles around holding a consistent sense of identity. In fact, before obsessing about being a writer, I was invested in another role ā Depressed Girlfriend.Ā
In my zine Things I Voicenote Myself About, I talk about my late teens in an abusive relationship. I kept thinking that if I could hold on long enough to the sadness I felt, I could accept it, become it. (Thankfully, my friends did not allow this for me.)
Over the years, Iāve seen that if I am not careful, anything I do or experience can become an identity search. Being a certain type of writer or girlfriend was a quest to define myself in some concrete, undeniable way that an external jury could evaluate. If they found me legitimate, I'd finally belong, finally be worthy of love.
But after years of hurting over this, Iāve learnt two things.
The first is that it's crucial to drown that external jury, over and over and over and over again, ad infinitum. I'm performing for no one, and no one has that power I wish they did.
The second is that identity isnāt one thing, it isnāt static, and isnāt even definable at its core.
I donāt think we ever āfigure outā who we are. I think we experience parts of ourselves through our communities, relationships, friendships, work, and hobbies.
Holding on to just one aspect of our identity is throwing the weight of our lives onto it. At some point, it'll give in.
Instead, constantly accessing our different dynamic parts allows us to better embody our entirety as we live. This distributed weight allows for a buoyancy, carrying us towards an authentic self and life.Ā
Maybe youāre someone who struggles with identity too. Or maybe you latch on too hard to some things, hoping to avoid the uncertainty of others. Maybe you are restructuring your life or entering a new phase and thereās one specific role that holds the promise of endless validation, if only you play it right.
If any of this rings a bell, please remember to braid more into your story. Add heart-work, but also add doing the dishes, and folding laundry, and meditating like your life depended on it. Add parties and dental appointments and that dance class you know you enjoy.
Plait in strands of joy and adventure and camaraderie and community. Find places to celebrate yourself, hold on to the mundane, and stay in touch with parts where you're still confused, still growing. Because believe me, we need all of it.
As you read this, Iām wrapping up work for my client and planning my 31st birthday party. Iām sitting with a book idea, but also with the number of a new therapist, and the link to a driving school. What I mean to say is that I have plans, but who knows what the next phase is really about.Ā
All we can do is give our whole selves a chance to show up and find out.Ā
š
Love,
Soumya
Recommended reads š
4 principles of honest and brave writing
How to be a writer when you're highly sensitive to rejection
āMy marriage was never the same after I wrote a poem that went viralā ā Maggie Smith on the aftermath of āGood Bonesā
āI donāt believe a writer should just keep writing as long as theyāre aliveā ā an Ocean Vuong interview
Jam šµ
Thank you for reading! š
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I used to think what I loved doing had to be "pure", and I couldn't braid those "boring" activities into my life, but now I do really love all of it. I see so much as ritual, sacred, and part of the story. Thank you for all of this!
Echo. I tried defining my identity, succumbing to some pressure that I was meant to be, meant to represent xyz things. It was liberating to come out of it, to live a life of evolving identity, discovering new things about self and being a beautiful irony in the world that is busy putting you in boxes. Good luck with all your projects, Soumya. Amazing things in store.