The Right to Write

Borrowing from the Julie Cameron book of the same name, a question for writers out there: when did you give yourself permission to write? I don't mean physically allowing yourself to sit down and wait for the words to start flowing from your fingertips, I mean saying "I deserve to be heard?"

I came across this quote from Gloria Anzaldúa a few months back, and it really resonated with me:

Who gave us permission to perform the act of writing? Why does writing seem so unnatural for me? I'll do anything to postpone it -- empty the trash, answer the telephone. The voice recurs in me who am, a poor chicanita from the sticks, to think that I could write? [...] How hard is it for us to think we can chose to become writers, much less feel and believe we can?

I can't pretend to know what it's like to be oppressed by race, but questioning whether I even should be writing at all? Been there. I wasn't the smart kid. I didn't rush home to scribble in a diary; I didn't love writing except when I was writing fanfic. Most days I, too, would rather do anything but write. I'm not someone who can bang out 5000-word posts in one sitting. I have to crabwalk my way through a reasonable 300, and even then I'll make some egregious error of fact or grammar that makes me question why I'm doing this in the first place.  And yet, I'm still compelled to write, even though by most standards, I shouldn't.  So I ask, when did you feel permission to write?