Writing is as mysterious as health care providers who smoke, as ambiguous as Theology 101, as misunderstood as the role of the Vice President of the United States.

I took me years to identify as a Writer, mostly because the misleading definitions we have of Writers is so deeply in our brains at a young age that we can hardly fathom identifying as one when we come of age and choose our vocation.

The engendered stereotypes of writers and artists contribute to this. How many classic novels by women were reviewed in English Lit? How many women poets were as extensively researched as Shakespeare? How many historic figures were held up as icons in American History classes? Whose writings were preserved? Whose viewpoint of history is celebrated? Clue: not women. And certainly not women of color. If the education your receive discounts or completely ignores your ancestry, why would you think you have a place in history?

And so, along with engendered stereotypes that men’s writings are the REAL classics, there are a whole slew of cultural factors as well. Filipinos highly prioritize education. I went to a medical camp when I was 14 for goodness sakes, believing I was destined to become the next top surgeon. I even received a certificate at MedCamp: Lisa Factora, B.D. (Beginning Doctor).

And then I fell in love with law. Then psychology. Then theology. All the while telling myself that I need to become specialized before I write. I need credentials before I write. I need xyz before I write. I need to travel before I write. No one will read or listen to me without ________. Writers often have the worst cases of self-doubt. And it’s not (always) a bad thing. Sometimes that doubt serves us well. It makes me research more thoroughly to provide evidence to my points and it reminds me that all the greats of ANY genre or field or discipline experience trial. Doubt can push us to excel.

Sometimes that doubt can be crippling, though. Self doubt can drive us in circles, where we sit in the passenger seat, observing the same fear over and over again in different perspectives. Doubt can lead to pen paralysis and writer’s block. Without proper self- confrontation, a budding writer may freeze and and stunt their growth.

Writers come in all different shapes, sizes, colors, languages, and interest. Not too long ago, I met someone at a restaurant and he was completely thrown by the idea that I was editing an anthology about sexual trauma. He thought, like most people assume, that writers aim to be in Oprah’s Book Club, or on the Publisher’s Top 10 List, or see the New York Times review section glow with fascination of our project.

Sure that would be nice, but if the goal of writing is to turn a profit, it’s not Writing. It’s writing, small w. Writing with capital W is writing because you cannot imagine life without this avenue of expression and understanding that the gift of writing must be developed and nurtured according to your life circumstance. Writing (big W) is understanding that publishing is a business, quite similar to Hollywood. Books are marketed to consumers and the consumers are the ones with money. Publishers want to lay out the most pleasing and alluring topics for your entertainment. They must strike a perfect balance of humor, intrigue, thrill, wit, and smarts. In the end, the formula spells money for publisher and nice cut for the writer. So you can imagine whose queries and proposals are accepted. Usually not ones for the poor, lonely, or incarcerated. If you have a $20 in your wallet, press houses are thinking of your spending patterns, not your social morality.

The image of a white starving man, hunched in a corner, bereaved over his struggling novel fits only a small percentage of writers. The Writers I know are people with families, responsibilities, and financial demands that cut into our dreams of Writing full-time. But we manage. With children, other jobs, spouses, stress, and obligations, we manage.

Writers write because they cannot imagine a world otherwise without the sacred act of documenting their ideas and perceptions of the world around them. And leaving that sacred act to someone else is simply unthinkable.