A year and a half ago, I was asked to describe myself as a writer during a team writing workshop held by my then-boss. This is what I penned down.
I often find myself wondering if writing is all I truly have to offer to this world. Or maybe I’ve been asking myself the wrong questions all along.
Q: Who am I as a writer?
A: To be fairly honest and precise: Insecure. It is a strange sort of a relationship where writing makes me incredibly nervous. So, I know what you’re thinking, why would I pursue something that terrifies me? Well, because it’s the very thing that simultaneously brings me peace. And isn’t that what we are all eventually after?