I am not an artist. I’m a maker, a crafter, a hobbyist. I have a cursory knowledge of many crafts, but am expert at none. I create woven wall hangings that etsy allows me to put in the “art” category of their site. But I’m pretty sure at any moment someone will realize I’m an imposter and kick me out. Don’t I need to be able to draw to be an artist?
I’m not a writer. I love to write. I’ve always loved to write. I’d like to write a book someday, but would that even make me a writer? Or just a person that wrote a book? Don’t I need an English degree to be a real writer.
I’m not an interior designer. I create spaces for kids and families every day. I put items together, choose paint colors, create moodboards and floor plans. I’d need to be formally trained to really be an interior designer, right?
I have a passion for writing, designing, creating. And, my job often calls on me to do all three. So, how does someone that’s largely self taught ever feel comfortable with titles such as these? Why do I feel that by celebrating my own work, others would think I’m discounting theirs?
I’m reminded of a favorite quote of mine, “It’s not what you are that holds you back, it’s what you think you are not.” – Denis Waitley. So, here’s to not letting these words hold me back from doing what makes me happy.