Identity- who art thou?

Define Anderson. It's a difficult task, being asked to define yourself, to put a label on who you are. As for me, I've never wanted to. To me, putting a label on yourself is as if you're saying you are limited. I don't want to feel restrained with who I am...if that makes any sense at all. 

A few days ago, I was clueless as to what my identity was. Looking at it now, I feel as if I’ve always known. My identity is wrapped in words. Big or small, words are words, and they make me who I am. They define me as a writer. I am someone who can take something boring and uninteresting, and put heart and soul into it, making it into a masterpiece all on its own. I've never felt more alive than when someone tells me what a great job I've done on an article, or how wonderfully written it was. My heart soars, and for a minute I feel as if my writing has a purpose in this world, that I have a purpose. My purpose is to write the wonders of the world, and deliver news to the public, because print isn’t dead. When I’m able to give justice to an article, the feeling of I'm not just like every other person comes to me and I feel as I’m in the middle of stage with a spotlight on me. I'm different because of my writing and my love of language. This is who I am, a writer. 

To think I never would have considered this had my mom not made me take Journalism in 9th grade. I met my teacher and my soon-to-be mentor for my writing. I discovered in her class, that many people learn to write well, and some are born to write well. I found myself writing the rough draft in my English class before writing the outline. I was asking sources, “Can I quote you on that?” I was a natural, but still rough around the edges. I can tell how much I have grown as a writer this year, and honestly, I have never felt more proud of myself. People ask me to define myself…turns out; it was easier than it looked.