Becoming a Writermom

The Scattered Beauty of Creative Beginnings

I’ve been writing more lately. And reading more. My current stage of motherhood is allowing this in a way that previous stages did NOT, and I’ve been very intentional lately about unearthing my passion for writing from years past.

It’s amazing, and it’s addicting, and it’s pretty messy. I’d dearly love to just walk out of my “real job” tomorrow and figure out how to “be a writer” instead. The temptation is very close to being irresistible, but the practical steps to do so elude me. What kind of writer? Writing for who? How do I get paid? How the heck does publishing work? I have zero background in publishing my writing, and have yet to dedicate any real time to figuring it out. 

I am writing in the margins of my day, as they say. Lunch breaks, while my partner takes the little one to the grocery store, while I should be finishing a work project. It’s scattered, intermittently satisfying, and only occasionally productive. But I’ve been at it for a few months now, so I’ve started developing a semblance of flow, the shadow of a trajectory, and started getting my head around some structure and purpose to the whole endeavor.

I listen to writer podcasts on my way to work and on the way to the nanny’s. Mom writers are of particular interest to me (obviously), and especially those who have figured out how to build their own creative businesses. It all plucks at the strings of everything I discovered in those early months of postpartum, gulping down content on Instagram about work-from-home moms finding amazing success with digital marketing and selling digital products. Much has changed since I first came across those dancing-mom-reels singing the praises of easy passive income from high-ticket affiliate marketing… but, my fascination with entrepreneurship and creative business remains, and I truly have those goofy reels to thank for bringing these concepts onto my radar in the first place.

I still haven’t exactly figured out how to fit all the pieces together, or exactly what my “dream” is in the first place. There are so many ways to build a creative, writerly lifestyle, to make a business from such pursuits… but I just can’t put my finger on my own particular talents, my own specific motivations for pursuing a writerly life and writerly business. Don’t you need large chunks of time to figure all of this out? Between work and constant caregiving… how do parents do it?!? 

Motherhood has absolutely changed everything about me and my life. That is a given. I, like so many mothers before me, feel the strong creative pull towards sharing and creating from my motherhood experiences. I know it takes time, and that these early years of motherhood are incredibly intensive. But that is PRECISELY what I want to capture in my creative pursuits.

The intensity of it all. The power. The epic, shocking transformation of self.

It feels like I’m experiencing it, and yet it’s simultaneously slipping through my fingers. I need to DOCUMENT IT! I need to write! I need to process it and create from it and and share these creations with the world! Right? 

I have only recently acknowledged that I am of an incredibly scattered nature. Undoubtedly our chaotic culture contributes greatly to this, and I am deep into the research and learning phase of figuring out how to best navigate chaos and dysregulation in my life, in my brain, in my house, etc. There’s a lot to learn, and a clear growing awareness that more and more people—and mothers in particular—are searching for a way out of this scatteredness. I have never been diagnosed with ADHD, and I have no interest in pursuing said diagnosis, but I am very confident that I would be medically labeled as such if given the chance. I seek to refine the scatter, to refine my personal Vision, my Goals, my Soul Song, and so on and so forth. I am building pathways through the chaos, but it takes enormous effort and true, deep humility. And time, and good sleep—things that have been in VERY short supply since my son was born almost two years ago.

I know that I have gifts and talents. I know that I have always been a writer in various senses of the word. I know I have a lot to learn about writing as a profession and about creative entrepreneurship as a “career.” Something tells me that these rambling brain dumps are helping clear out the mental noise and spiral closer to clarity and defined purpose.

I know that writing is healing. I know that I process through writing. I know that I can express great humor and compassion through writing, in ways that I never seem to achieve verbally. Writing is my primary creative vehicle.

I am grateful for this unfolding journey, for my conviction and desire to write, and for this stage of motherhood where I have a few minutes to spare here and there to devote to this endeavor. I have recently found myself deeply seeing and feeling the true beauty of what my life has been in the twenty months since I became a mother. It has been challenging well beyond anything I anticipated.

And.

I have transformed and the world around me has held me in ways that I haven’t been able to see until now. Our town is adorable. It is currently blanketed in beautiful fall leaves and rain-rich parks and yards. We live just up the hill from the little downtown, with its sourdough bakery and coffee shops and baby storytimes at the local library. Our little boy has learned to sit and then crawl and then stand and then walk on our front porch, overlooking the street, and in our shady backyard full of bluebirds and sparrows. We’ve cooked dinners with foods from our local farms in our cozy little kitchen, made coffee by the east-facing kitchen window that perfectly catches the sunrise over the hills.

And now, our little family has big changes on the horizon. There are a lot of options still for what comes next, but things will be changing and we know that. I have tried to enjoy the present while preparing myself for the near future. It is a potent time to leap into new experiences and big dreams. After what feels like years of dawdling and lollygagging, busy with other (fun, adventurous, explorative, enticing pursuits), the time to pursue purposeful writing is finally upon me. I know this, and I know that I can’t ignore it anymore. Not writing just invites chaos and clutter to my inner world. It is who I am. I want to write about motherhood. About postpartum. About a woman’s evolution, and the vast power it holds. I want to write about nature, about birds. I want to write about coffee!

And somehow, all of this must ultimately translate to “making a living” while still being true to the needs of my soul. It feels impossible, but I don’t think it actually is. This is where we are as a collective, is it not? It most certainly seems that way, feels that way. All I can do is embrace my own small part of the Divine plan, and be led forward accordingly.

I can feel the distinct energy of transformation all around me, and I will continue to try and surrender to it, follow the flow of it, and draw my own voice to the surface of that flow as much as I can. I will write my way through all the confusion, and unearth the clarity that I know is waiting for me underneath. I have found so much inspiration from other writers, other mompreneurs, other blossoming creatives. There is an incredibly amount of beauty, wisdom, and LOVE being shared on these creative platforms, and I just know that developing my own writing practice holds my personal ability to contribute to this unfolding.