It would be easy to say that I’m a Mother, but I’m more than that. I’m also more than a Teacher, an Author, a Daughter, a Sister, and a Friend. I’m all of these things, as well as whatever the people around me want to classify me as.
Finding My Definition(s)
As humans, we have this desire to put ourselves neatly into a box that defines us precisely. It can be scary and confusing if we don’t have a label that gives us a place in the world—or one that makes us feel good.
Within the last few weeks, I have been faced with some incredibly emotional and trying times. During these moments, I gave up part of one of my identities, and it felt weird and uncomfortable. It made me think about what it means to define myself and my place in the world.
Reconsidering One of My Definitions
Not only do I consider myself an author, but I also define myself as a content creator. I use these separate distinctions based on the type of writing I’m doing. I reserve “author” for my fiction and nonfiction writing, while “content creator” applies to the writing I do for clients.
I had been a member of a content mill for a while. I never viewed it as a bad thing because there was always work and I didn’t have to worry about hunting people down to get my money. The pay wasn’t spectacular, but there was an opportunity to meet clients and get direct orders at a price I had set. I actually made some decent money through this site.
I originally signed up for this site back in 2016. I didn’t use it often until about 2 years ago when I was freelancing pretty much full-time. They use a rating system, giving writers from 1 to 4 stars. You can become a 5-star author, but you have to go through a process. I started it, but I never had time to finish it. (Plus, they kept changing the requirements and ways to achieve this coveted goal, so I said forget it and was content with where I was at.)
Since signing up in 2016, I have always been a 4-star author. Every so often, the site would do an audit of my work that could potentially change my rating level. In the past, I’ve always stayed at 4 stars.
Recently, I was dropped to a 3-star author.
It didn’t sit well with me.
It’s important to realize that at this time, I was not in a good place emotionally. I had just received some distressing news about a family member and my son had concussed himself at football practice.
I knew I wasn’t in a good headspace, so I tried to let the rating go. I told myself to give it a day, then I would come back to it.
It’s important to realize that I had been questioning whether or not I wanted to continue writing content. I love that it was able to sustain me for so long, but I’m burning out. It’s not a writing field that changes often, and a lot of the assignments are the same.
This can be both comforting and frustrating.
It’s comforting because since I know what to expect, I can churn out assignments quickly, ensuring I make money. It’s frustrating because it’s boring and time-consuming. Whether I get paid or not, some days I want to stimulate my brain.
The other issue was that the particular site I was on hadn’t had a lot of work lately. I hadn’t written for them in weeks.
While I’m sure there were still some emotions involved, I took my day, then decided to close my account. I told myself that this was my out, my sign that I needed to get out of the game. It wasn’t easy clicking that delete button, but I followed through.
I Lose Part of My Identity
I always knew that as a writer on that particular site, I was a cog in a wheel. I was a faceless creator churning out content that would get businesses noticed on the web. I had to adhere to certain requirements and stipulations, and I had to incorporate keywords properly. I was good at what I did.
I knew I was never going to form close relationships with any of the clients who requested content, but I had at least hoped I was important to the site administrators.
By the time I closed my account, I had written close to (if not more) 1.5 million words. I had made them 1,000s of dollars. I thought that maybe they would send a message and say they were sad to see me go—or at least ask why I was leaving.
But it didn’t happen.
There was nothing but crickets.
That didn’t help my emotional state. Anger crept in.
I felt my feelings for a little while, and then I let them go. Know why? Because that site can never take my accomplishments from me. They may not think that my word count or the amount of money I made was important, but I do.
And I praised myself for the hard work I had put in.
I also reminded myself that the site was no longer giving me what I needed. It wasn’t providing work, and it lowered my rating. It was time to move on—even though it was a challenging decision to make.
My True Self
The emotional distress and this decision got me thinking about my other roles and definitions and how many of them either make me a cog in a wheel or don’t get me any type of recognition.
As a human, I want people to see me. I want to know that I’m part of the larger group and doing something worthwhile, but that doesn’t always happen. In fact, it’s pretty rare that it happens.
But that doesn’t make any of my roles less important.
At the end of the day, as long as I recognize that I am valuable and worthy, that’s all that matters. I may have a lot of ways to define myself, but deep down, I know I’m all of these things and none of them.
I can only take life day by day, and I will define myself in different ways depending on what I’m doing. But underneath it all, I always try to do my best—and that’s all that really matters.
