Letter to Old Friend: Written by China Marie "Heinrich" V. Ang
By China Marie "Heinrich" V. Ang
Dear friend,
I started writing letters a long time ago. The first letter was to a friend I fell in love with and the second was to an old friend I was saying goodbye to.
I never thought that my hobby of writing my deepest feelings could turn into a column where I could relearn how to be vulnerable with people again. My vulnerability was stunted a long time ago and I didn’t think I had it in me to tell people what I was thinking anymore.
I never thought that my letters could grant me the title of “writer.”
Titles have always been hard for me. I have been ingrained with the idea that one has to earn a title. I would never be presumptuous enough to assume that I was a writer simply because I decided to put pen to paper.
Self-given titles have always felt disingenuous to me. Who gave me the right to title myself as “insert inane hobby here?”
I’m afraid of coming across as entitled. “Deserve” is a bad word in my head.
I feel this way about the title of “musician.” Despite having spent the better part of 7 years dedicating most of my time to learn more about music, I don’t know if I’ll even be comfortable calling myself a “musician” until that diploma hangs on my wall.
My anonymity was the result of this. I was scared that what I was writing was not good enough to be considered to be written by a “writer.” I was scared to be undeserving of the title.
I was scared of putting a name to the soul I was about to bare.
Even now, I am scared of writing a bad letter. Though recently, I don’t think that fear has stopped me from doing so.
I know what it is to have a title used against me.
But I’m 21 years old now and I’m challenging myself. I’ve also been told that some of you actually dare to read my letters.
So here I am, willing to grant myself, at least, the title of “writer.”
I am the Editor in Chief after all.
Sincelerly,
Your friend