An interesting thing happened to me recently while at the title company; the associate needed me to give my occupation. I stated, “writer.” She quickly followed up by asking what I write. I paused unsure how much to share.

In that space, my realtor rescued me by saying, “She writes sentences.”

“And paragraphs,” I added with a laugh. Then I said, “I’m sorry, do you need something more specific for your paperwork.”

She assured me that writer was fine.

I’ve been a writer for three decades, first publishing in an academic journal. Still, I hesitate to refer to myself as one, even though I write every day and am an author and a writing coach. Calling myself a writer is vague, and I rush to fill in some credentials and accomplishments to justify the title.

Why is it that I become timid when I call myself a writer? At a recent roundtable, someone asked me the question of when she could consider herself a writer. As she is quite talented in constructing prose with vivid imagery, compelling characters, solid pacing, and a good command of sentence structure, I immediately assured her that she was a writer! Even if she was more of a beginning writer, I would have assured her that just showing up to put permanence to her thoughts on paper qualified her as a writer.

She countered that she hadn’t yet published. I assured her anyone who writes is a writer. It seems, we need to ascribe some validation from others to own the reality of our own vocations. Perhaps it is earning an income, winning a contest, reading a poem at an open mic, or publishing. Having done all of that, I still hesitate. For me, it is because I feel awkward with the response from others that need to have clarification, which I interpret as credibility that I am, in fact, a writer.

I think one can comfortably consider themselves a writer when they realize they don’t need anyone’s permission to classify oneself as such. Elizabeth Gilbert explores this theme in her book, “Big Magic.” She reminds us we don’t need permission! We can write and own that identity.

For me, writing is something I selfishly do for no immediate result. It is simply a way for me to make sense of the experiences I encounter. It is a deeply personal experience. Yet, I also seek connection with readers. A fellow conference attendee recently remarked that of the 200ish writers in attendance, no one had heard of them or their work! Yet, they were all investing their time and energy in thoughtfully advancing their writing practices. Maybe we are all conditioned to consider recognition as the only marker of authenticity.

I am wondering what do you think makes a person a writer? For me it is simply the practice of writing that makes someone a writer, no additional information needed.