When I started writing, I did have some idealised notion of my dad as a writer. But I have less and less of a literary rivalry with him as I've gone on. I certainly don't feel I need his approval, although maybe that's because I'm confident that I've got it.
This quote offers a profound insight into the evolving perceptions of a writer regarding their father and their own creative identity. At the outset, there is a romanticized view of the father as a quintessential writer, embodying the ideal standards and perhaps setting a benchmark that the speaker initially feels the need to meet or surpass. As the speaker's journey progresses, the notion of rivalry diminishes, revealing a maturation in their relationship and self-perception. The acknowledgment that external approval is no longer required signifies a deepening self-confidence and independence in their craft. It illustrates a common developmental arc in artistic pursuits, where the initial admiration can give way to a more authentic, self-defined sense of purpose. The hint that this confidence might stem from the belief that they have already secured their father's approval adds nuance, suggesting a reconciliation with identity and expectations. This layered reflection underscores the importance of internal validation over external validation and highlights how personal growth often involves reevaluating and transcending early aspirations or comparisons. Overall, it emphasizes that the journey in writing—or any art—entails understanding oneself apart from family or societal expectations, fostering genuine confidence rooted in self-awareness and intrinsic worth.
