Motherhood, especially in the early years, can be an all-encompassing identity. Your own dreams, wants and needs are put on hold indefinitely, often for years, and it’s hard to remember, at times, the person you were pre-baby.
That’s why it’s good to write about it and remind yourself of who you once were. This moving essay by Deb Sessions does just that.
‘Four years ago I sat in a cafe jotting down ideas and characters, congratulating myself on my word count. Today, I sat typing this, congratulating myself on having showered and been to the toilet alone.‘
Deb grew up in England and moved to Australia in her late twenties, for love. She’s a Mum to two highly energetic boys, two and three years old. She loves all things creative but especially writing. You can find some of her writing over at Cub and Cave.
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Am I A Writer?
When Louise asked me to write a piece for her series, I immediately panicked because I am not a writer. I don’t write regularly, unless you count WhatsApp messages. But then I sat down and thought about it some more.
The closest I’ve been to a pen this week was to scrub ink off the floor after my three year old wanted to ‘make sure it was working’. My laptop is used almost exclusively for online grocery shopping, and all of my beautiful notepads are filled with to-do lists, scribbles and drool. Highlighters that were once used for old-school editing are now part of my youngest sons diet! Yet,underneath my snot, food and dirt-covered exterior hides a writer that I believe has always been there.
I think we often define ourselves by our current situation or role, which for me means that I am a housewife and a mother and definitely not a writer. Yet in my heart I am a writer. But is that enough? If my son is an astronaut at heart, is he really an astronaut? I’ve been a parent for less than four years and yet I’ve dreamed of being a writer since I could scribble the alphabet, so perhaps I’m just on long service leave.
‘I’ve been a parent for less than four years and yet I’ve dreamed of being a writer since I could scribble the alphabet, so perhaps I’m just on long service leave.’
I had a poem published in the local paper when I was at Primary school and they gave me a full page, declaring in huge letters that ‘ Deborah really hates litter’. At ten years old I pretty much thought I was famous because there had been a headline written about me. Soon after, I wrote a series of children’s books for my youngest sister about a pig called Porky Jolly and I still have them all now. I remember writing them and illustrating them whilst Mum, Dad and us three kids sat on the sofa together watching, ‘The Darling Buds of May’. I still can’t see David Jason or Pam Ferris without thinking about Porky Jolly and his best friend, Martha Mouse.
Roald Dahl and Gillian Cross were big influences in my childhood and I wanted to write books like theirs. Books of escapism and adventure. I briefly wanted to be a hairdresser, too, but otherwise my dream was always to be an author. And it still is. At high school we were forced to do a two-week work placement in our chosen career. My chosen career was to be an author. I was told very quickly that it was not possible, so I asked to work in journalism and was swiftly placed in a beauty salon where I made cups of tea and watched incredibly hairy legs being waxed.
During my early teens, before computers were common in every household, I was part of a pen pal club and I had pen pals all over the world. I told all of them about my passion for writing and with several of them we wrote stories together, handwriting an A4 sheet twice, keeping one copy and mailing the other until gradually we had the makings of a story, written together, page by page. I could not rip the envelope open quick enough once the return mail arrived and at that moment, nothing else in the world mattered apart from writing the next page of the novel. I would grab my pens and paper and sit at the dining table, lost somewhere inside my imagination.
My other sister and I wrote plays too and often giggle over an awful musical that we wrote, called ‘Gloria EsteCan’. Our childhood was filled with books and make-believe play and I don’t know if that was spurred by my desire to write fiction, or if my playful, imaginative childhood created the writer.
Recently I have written a few blog posts for the blog Cub and Cave and found it so therapeutic, but my passion lies with fiction. I still scribble ideas down occasionally but other than that, my time is now sucked into the vortex that is motherhood. Four years ago I sat in a cafe jotting down ideas and characters, congratulating myself on my word count. Today, I sat typing this, congratulating myself on having showered and been to the toilet alone. High Five?
Writing this piece started off terrifying but in the end it’s allowed me to realise that I am a writer and have been for a long time. The passion to create stories has not gone away and I have a feeling it will be a wonderful way to enrich, connect and laugh with my boys in just a few years.
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If you’d like to write a post for Writers in the Attic, please contact me here. The topic is anything to do with writing—your writing life, what writing means to you, or what has influenced your writing. 600-1000 words is a good length, and I acknowledge the time and effort involved in writing these pieces by sending a small gift as a thank you.
Please keep the essays coming!
If you have any questions or would like more information, feel free to contact me.
Beautiful Deborah… what a gift Louise offered you, and how wonderful that you accepted and rose to the challenge! I agree, writing is therapeutic… understanding this had a major impact on me too. Keep writing when the thoughts and feelings inspire you. 💜
It’s amazing the realisations you get when writing, isn’t it? You often come full circle, as Deb has done here.
Those full-on early years of motherhood will end, and when they do I have no doubt Deb will return to writing. In fact, I’ve already seen Deb around and about, so I know she’s keeping her hand in! 🙂 xx
Thanks Leanda x
Yes, Deborah. I’d say you are a writer, and not just an aspiring one. Given the loveliness of this post and the way you describe your journey, you’re a writer. Welcome to the club of doubters. I don’t doubt that I’m a writer these days but when I was beginning I felt the same as you. Motherhood can suck you in with its demands but it’s still a fertile ground for what will follow, writing wise and all the rest. Not so long now, and in between times, know you’re a writer and you can get by on whatever you can manage.
Couldn’t agree more, Lis—about the loveliness of Deb’s post and that she is unquestionably a writer!
You’re right, too, that writing will wait. It will still be there, with even more fodder, when time allows. Unlike being an Olympic athlete, for example. 😉
PS. I still doubt I’m a writer—part of me thinks I’ve somehow fluked it this far.
That’s very kind, Elisabeth. Thank you x
Brill Debs you definitely are a writer. Made me smile on the train this morning. 🙂 we want to see more!
Definitely a writer and definitely want to read more! And not every writer can make people smile! 🙂
Hello Deborah
I agree, that you are definitely a writer.
Rae x
I’m with you, Rae! 🙂
Ah, that Louise is a wise woman. Loved this, read it nodding and remembering the days of small children, and I didn’t want the piece to end!
Thank you for writing for us Deborah and wishing you many happy writing moments in the years to come.
I remember those days well, and feeling as if I’ll never again be able to do all the things I used to enjoy. And look, I blinked and all of my kids now sleep through the night and they’re off doing their own thing during the day!
(Might have taken a bit longer than a blink!)
Motherhood… It’s been a decade since I was up to my elbows in nappies but reading Deborah’s post made it feel like yesterday! With a smile on my face I nodded along to the moments she shared and I just loved her question, ‘In my heart I am a writer. But is that enough? If my son is an astronaut at heart, is he really an astronaut?’
This is a beautifully written piece and proof that Deborah definitely is a writer!
I remember the feelings well, too, Marie, and loved the same line! It’s a beautiful post and, yes, proves that Deb is indeed a writer! 🙂
You are an amazing person Deb x I can’t wait to hear more, I know you like fiction but they way you write true to the heart really touches me ,as we are in the same motherhood roller coaster you make me giggle about you and your boys latest ventures I can literally see it happening in the way you write,more motherhood made real columns please 🙂 x
What a great idea—motherhood-made-real columns! Deb, you’ve heard Tara—more please! 🙂 xx
Wow! I am absolutely blown away by all of the comments and can’t thank you all as much as I want to without losing this new credibility as a writer 😉
Your feedback is so generous and has given me a huge smile today. Now I must dash (no word of a lie – hubby just ran in panicking because the 2yo has done a blue poo!)
Blue poo is not normal! Hope it passes through uneventfully! xx
He’d eaten a blue crayon, blue playdough and a blue iced cookie at playgroup! 😩
Good on you for realizing your dream.
Realising what you want is the first step! Thanks, Kooky. 🙂
You have a wonderful voice. Keep writing.
I agree on both counts! 🙂
I love your refreshing voice, Deborah. Welcome to the world of doubting writers. On reflection, is there any other kind of writer?
Nope, I don’t think there is, Maureen! I’m sure it makes us better writers—there has to be some advantage to it! xx
I wonder if Stephen King or JK Rowling still doubt themselves? They must. Imagine the arrogance if we were sure we were spectacular!
You’ll get there, because yes, you are a writer 🙂
Definitely! I think Deb’s already there, actually! x
It’s clear you are a born writer. I would love to read Gloria Esta can! And your published poem 🙂
I want to read them, too! And the story written by the group of penpals! What an exciting thing to have shared with friends. 🙂
Haha Gloria EsteCan is safely retired/lost forever but I’m sure that I could dig the poem out and relive my fame 😁
Thanks again everyone. X
What a lovely, heartfelt post! I can completely relate to your feelings Deborah. I too wrote an entire novel, page by page, with a friend when I was 12… I really should dig that out 🙂
Having been a mother for only one year, I know full well how easy it is to be sucked into the daily life of motherhood and letting our own stuff slip away. Keep up with the writing when you can, you write beautifully.
You ladies are all doing amazingly! Motherhood is the biggest life-changing, all-consuming role we’ll ever take on. The fact you haven’t forgotten your old selves sets you up to be even better mums! As your kids grow, periods of your day will open up to you. Keep writing! 🙂
PS. Please dig out your novel, Kirsty! I’d love to read it, too! x
I’m so sorry I’m only just getting to this, but in a way I’m glad, because the wait was well worthwhile. What a delightful post by Deborah (who is DEFINITELY a writer, even if she is currently occupied with creating the stories of her sons’ early life). Thanks to both of you, Louise and Deborah, for sharing!
Don’t worry about being late to read anything here, Maureen! I agree about Deb’s post—it’s delightful and there’s no doubt she’s a writer! x