The Moment Someone Believed in Her
Elizabeth Moore
She was so brave that day. Scared and unsure, but brave to say the least. We didn't really know each other yet, but we sat down at a tiny table, and she asked me about my experience as a writing major. I talked her ear off for over an hour while stories and hot tea spilled all over our hands.
She was just like me at eighteen years old--passionate but timid, needing a friend to tell her she's legit and her dreams are legit. Needing permission to let her passions bust out of the trapdoor and surprise everyone. She needed her moment where someone believed in her.
And I tried to remember my moment. The one where I knew. Where I finally told myself that I could try out this writing thing.
I started college as a Literature major. I had no plan, I didn't want to teach, I just knew that I loved it. When everyone else talked about their 5 year plans, I had nothing to contribute. I made lots of frantic phone calls to my mom that year. She was great for those Rory Gilmore "I'm-Never-Getting-Into-Harvard" meltdowns. She would remind me that I loved English more than anything else for a reason, and the Lord would provide. Simple as that.
Well she was right. I still don't have a job, but I have a dream. A dream that I can finally speak out loud. I'm going to be a writer. What the heck.
I had never used the word "writer" to describe myself before. There was always this unspoken rule that "writer" was way out of my league. Only people like Shauna or Flannery could call themselves writers, and I would always be tailing their heels, disgracing the name of "writer" in the process.
But I took a writing class on a whim my junior year. I heard that the teacher was supposedly good, so I signed up as an elective. ENG 321 opened my eyes to the world of writing, the beautiful and horribly frustrating craft of sentences and paragraphs. That semester, I learned that writing makes me come alive like nothing else.
A few days later I wound up in Dr. Jordan's office to talk about changing my major from Lit to Writing. That's when she asked me the million dollar question:
"What do you want to do with Writing?"
I stumbled over some vague words laced with insecurity and defensiveness. That I could maybe see myself writing stuff sometimes if, you know, people wanted me to, or something like that, but it's whatever...
She cut me off, "So you want to be a professional writer?"
I just stared at her.
"Um... yeah. I mean, I think so."
But inside I was like, "OH MY GOSH DID YOU JUST SAY THOSE WORDS I'M CRYING!"
This was my moment. It was like a floodgate broke loose and all my dreams and passions and fears rushed forward with alarmingly dangerous force.
"I want to be a professional writer," I repeated to myself.
Seven words that I didn't have the courage to say until someone who believed in me said them first.
And sometimes we need people to tell us the very things we're afraid to say, because speaking them out loud is the first step.
So when this sweet eighteen year old girl asked to talk to me, that's what we did. We sat at our tiny table, hot tea splashing everywhere, just as messy as our dreams, and we spoke our dreams out loud. We got our brave on.
So speak. Just say it. Bring it into the light because it's legit. Whisper at first if you have to, but let your confidence grow with your voice. Look around you, and help other people speak too. Let's be people who believe in each other.
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