Today is Insecure Writer’s Support Group day, which takes place on the first Wednesday of every month. I skipped last month’s post. I hope you forgive me. I can’t remember what my reason was, but I’m sure it was good. Or maybe not… Make sure to check out other writers’ posts here.
The IWSG admins decided to add a question to inspire the posts, which is such a great idea. I can only write so many posts on feeling insecure about my writing, which is pretty much a permanent state of being for me. The question this month is: What was your very first piece of writing as an aspiring writer? Where is it now? Collecting dust or has it been published?
Welcome to the On Series, a series of opinion posts from this one woman’s unique perspective. A new post every Friday.
I never fully realized how much judgment and criticism women must endure until I became a mother. Suddenly, a growing belly and then a child in my arms made others entitled to gift me with their opinions on many matters.
People aren’t generally used to women’s anger. At least not the glass shattering, lion roar stemming from years of hurt, deep wounds, fissures in the Earth. Women’s anger and rage are needed.
The feminine has been under attack for centuries, and the time has come for anger and rage. The Earth covered in storms of never before seen strength and power. The feminine is awakening. And the first order of business is rage.
Women bleed. Monthly. Or I should say many women usually bleed monthly, as there are always exceptions. But healthy women of a certain age bleed quite regularly.
I sometimes wonder what society as a whole makes of this, because we are so silent about it. Most people around us don’t know we are bleeding. We are usually taught early on to be discreet with our menstruation. That’s what all those pad and tampon ads are about with their blue blood. Blue blood! Women bleed red. Red!
So I’ve been writing stuff recently that doesn’t really fit here, but after some thinking I’ve decided that it’s my blog and I’ll do what I want. Therefore, I’ve decided to start a new series of posts that will just be my random thoughts on a topic (most likely not writing related). All the titles will start with On, so you’ll know what you’re getting yourself into. Welcome to the On Series, where I rant write about random stuff.
Let me begin with a confession: I am a lazy bum who most prefers sitting at home reading or writing and eating chocolate-covered peanuts. This is a sad truth about me that is somewhat no longer true. Deep in my heart I am still that person, but I spend hours every week going against my instinct and I can’t remember the last time I ate chocolate-covered anything.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re a liar and a traitor, Ula!
Getting to the Bloggers Bash at The Driver in London required I take an over-3-hour bus ride, 2-hour flight, 45-minute train ride, several switches on the Tube, and some walking (about 10 hours of travel total each way), and it was totally worth it!
I got there Friday evening, and the wonderful Geoff Le Pard took me in, which means I got to be part of the pajama party with Sacha, Ali and Hugh. Ali and I helped Geoff make a delicious vegan dinner. And then he brought out a vegan cheesecake. This man takes taking care of his guests seriously.
Welcome to Insecure Writer’s Support Group day, which takes place on the first Wednesday of every month. The purpose is to share and encourage, express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak, as well as offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds! Make sure to check out other writers’ posts here.
This is my 12th IWSG post, which means I’ve been part of this group for over a year. I spent a few months observing on Facebook and reading others’ posts before I joined in. I’d like to take this moment to express gratitude for the support I’ve received from this wonderful group of people. I’m so glad to have found you.
Getting Back to Basics
So I’ve recently been doing a lot of thinking (and not much else writing-wise), and I’ve decided I need to get back to the basics.
Maria looked at her face in the mirror and wondered how long some of those fissures and grooves had been there. Time can be so cruel, she thought. She didn’t like how others looked at and spoke to her.