I’ve always fought with this idea that people don’t remember or think of me. I’m not sure why. I’ve always been a fairly out-going person. Even in middle school with my Eddie Murphy impressions, I stood out for having a (strange?) sense of humor and practical means of thinking.

I guess now that I’m toying with the idea of calling myself a writer (I kinda find it obnoxious… Like I haven’t earned my stripes or something), I keep having this idea that no one reads/ notices my work.

Take this blog for example. I’m sure I can count on my hand the number of people who read it (Kelli, Rayce, Ben, Andi, sometimes Justin when I remind him or make mention of my blog in a Facebook message. There’s also my Journalism buddies who read it once, loved it and never read it again... yea, that’s about it). So I can’t really use this blog as a reference of my writing. For one — I talk about holey underpants and my girl-crush on Marissa Miller... I’m not a writer in this blog — I’m more of a babbler.

Then I did my internship at The Times of Acadiana, which I doubt many people noticed my name, except for those who I told to and my great Aunt from Lafayette. Like, my best friend from middle school through high school never thought to pick one up because she “couldn’t find any.”  But then I have to take into consideration that she seldom left her house this summer and doesn’t think of me all that much anymore.

I did get compliments from the people I wrote about, which made me feel really good. I even had one high school friend tell me he read one of my cover stories and really liked it.

I’m just realizing now how important my writing is to me. For one, it’s the most lucrative thing I’m good at. I have no idea what I would do if I couldn’t be a writer. And second, writing is personal. I take an idea or other people’s stories and flip them in a way I see fit. My writing style, my vision.

I have certain points in my life that shows what my writing means to me. Like when Rayce was wooing/ stalking me at Brookshires, the first thing he said to me was something like “Aren’t you that girl that writes for the paper?”  Now consider that this was

1. The summer of my freshman year in college and I had one written a few pieces for the newspaper that year.

2. The first time ANYONE had noticed me from my writing.

3. I was completely caught off guard.

I remember I went home that night and told my mom that some “tall blonde guy” had noticed my writing! It was this recognition that pretty much sealed the deal for him when he asked me out later.

Come to find out he saw my picture on the opinions page and thought I was cute. Then he read what my opinion pieces on the nude art gallery and the joy of being pale, and thought I was pretty cool. He even QUOTED a few lines from my Proud to be Pale article. I was like, whoah — this dude paid attention.  

So the fact that he noticed my writing (even though such recognition was brought forth by my picture on the side of it) was the main reason I went out with him and gave him a chance in the first place. I’m definitely glad I did!

Then at Freshman Connection this year, a red-headed girl — who I’ve spoken to before at other college- recruitment functions and she used to be a regular at Brookshires — said she looks for my name every week in the college paper to read my stories. I thought WOW! I don’t know her name, but I’ll definitely favor her come the fall.

Little things like that show me that what I do touches people. Even if it’s just a few — I want to make some kind of difference in their lives through my writing. I like telling stories that move or encourage other people.

So even though I’m constantly fighting the feeling that no one notices me, one day I’ll get the justification I need to know that I’m making an impact.