Labels, Schmabels

I hate labels. Okay, maybe not all labels. It’s handy to have a label on say, a can, so I know what’s inside. That’s a good label and I appreciate it. I hate labels on people. Mostly because I don’t understand them and don’t know if there’s truth in them or not. So mostly, I try to avoid them.

There are times, however, when labels are necessary. Like when you’re filling out an application or a profile or some other sort of questionnaire that asks you to be specific about ¬†who you are and what you do.

For instance, after my mom died I struggled with the label “daughter.” Was I still a daughter if my mom was dead? Since I still had my dad I eventually settled on a yes answer but it was a struggle none-the-less.

Chuck and I had five miscarriages before Shelby and Seth were born. Was I a mother? I had conceived children and carried them in my womb…they just didn’t survive past the first trimester. There was a term tossed around on blogs and books and used frequently by therapists that labeled women like me “childless mothers.” Hallmark even made a card about it so I guess it was a thing. It was a label I hated though because I always felt it brought pity.

A long time ago I felt a calling on my life to share stories. I knew God wanted me to take both the tragic and the beautiful pieces of my life and share them with others. It was then that I started blogging. Does blogging make me a blogger? Is that a thing? Can I introduce myself as Tamara Lexow – Blogger?

A few months back I started praying about whether or not this is really a thing. A thing for me and for my life. God has overwhelmingly said, “Yes, Tamara, this is a thing.” So I’m taking it more seriously now. Last week I enrolled in an online course for blogging/writing. I know I’ve got a long way to go but I’m trusting God to walk me through the doors I need to walk through.

So am I a blogger? Yes. I am a blogger.

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