Thank You

Worth Its Weight in Gold

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I know I’ve used this photo before, but it just really seemed appropriate today. Photo by sydney Rae on Unsplash

I’ve been struggling with a sense of worth lately. I’ve wanted to be a writer for ages. I’ve been writing here at Medium for three years. I went from somebody who was terrified at the thought of their writing coming under the scrutinizing and critical eye of people smarter than I was to become an almost fearless writer unafraid to spill her guts and then do an autopsy. It’s gross, but life is gross sometimes. It’s the honesty that is important. At least, I think it is.

I can remember hearing what somebody else was going through when I was a lot younger, which was sometimes important to me, especially when I said to myself, “Yeah, that’s what happens to me too.” I could relate. Or, I might hear something and think to myself, “I want to do that too.” Either way, their thoughts provided me with a way through what, at times, was a murky way into the future.

Reading your comments is important to me, so in a sense, it is a commodity, especially since I don’t earn money at Medium. Not because I live in a country that doesn’t get paid by Medium, but because if I were to think about it, maybe I’m just a terrible writer.

I was reminded when I was a member of the working stiffs (I’m retired now) that I would slog along with the best of them. The raises I…