My job is not me

I am a technical writer.
I am a technical writer.
I am a technical writer.
That's been my mantra for many years. In the last few days I've had an experience that felt like waking up, but on a grander scale.

I'm not a technical writer.
I'm a woman with diverse interests, dreams, anxieties, strengths, weaknesses - and, oh yeah, I know how to make a living writing about high-tech gadgets. Surely I could draw a line through a different set of interests and strengths, and discover how to make a living doing something else I enjoy. But this is scary, crazy thinking. My brain freezes as soon as I realize that the logical next step is to contemplate a career change. So I stop in my tracks and meekly go back to thinking "I am a technical writer."

I'll have to change my thinking in baby steps. The first baby step is, as any good writer knows, to get rid of the passive voice. Find "I am a technical writer." Replace with "I do technical writing for a living." Ah - that creates breathing room, and the other aspects of me start reminding me that they're still here: Empty-nest mom, former Girl Scout leader, herb gardener, handweaver, swimmer, baker of uncommonly good pies. Music lover. Amateur carpenter. I don't do any of those for a living, but they are as important to me as technical writing. Getting things into focus, presenting a more balanced view - it's just a matter of thinking of myself in the active voice. My active voice.

Don't ask me how this ends. I just woke up.