Writing was my religion, my foremost purpose in life, my consolation. But as the...

Writing was my religion, my foremost purpose in life, my consolation. But as the years passed and I didn't have the successes that others deemed the qualifications of a "real" writer, I went into hiding. I wrote, but I lost the strength of my words. I wrote, but with a doubt that needled each sentence, a lack of self-confidence that clouded my imagination. My boldness evaporated. My verve started to become a distant memory. I lost my truth."

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