How do you know if you're "a writer?" Are all people who write--in journals, diaries, blogs, books, magazines, newsletters, manuals--writers? Is being a writer defined by the act or is it more, an integral part of a person that influences how they think, feel, and act? Do you have to love writing, whether or not you are paid for it, to be a writer?

I don't know the answers to all these questions, and I'm sure there are many. For me, the answer is yes, I am a writer. There are many reasons I love writing--the process, the satisfaction of a particularly good string of words, and the response it can elicit from a reader. I even love the word "write." But the reason I consider myself a writer is that I have always felt a need to record things: my thoughts, observations, ideas, experiences, funny things I hear, some meaningless phrase that pops into my head and which I like for the way the words sound together. 

This writerly urge, I'll call it, cannot be suppressed. I've tried. In the past, I've ignored it out of exasperation, laziness, and annoyance. It is not convenient. It takes time. It sometimes calls forth deep feelings. But the urge always resurfaced just as strong no matter how much time had gone by.  

This notion of being a writer was reinforced in a big way recently. Last week, someone very close to me was raped by someone she knew. The hours and days that followed included a rape kit, painful shots to prevent STDs and pregnancy, interviews with police and assistant state's attorneys during which she had to tell her story over and over, and, in the end, the painful realization that her attacker would not be charged** because the case was "not provable beyond a reasonable doubt"--something I always thought was left up to juries and not a single state's attorney who never even interviewed the victim, though that's a whole other blog post.

This past week, I have experienced life-changing sadness and anger coupled with profound disappointment in "the system." I want to let everyone know what happened to her, how she and so many others are let down by people hired and elected to help us. I want to make change. But my initial urge wasn't to lobby the statehouse for new laws (though I'd love to do that, too), or call the state's attorney's office and demand more answers, or scream from a soapbox. My initial urge was to use the power of my pen and write. That's how I know I'm a writer.

**The woman is still pursuing the case with the help of the Chicago Alliance Against Sexual Exploitation. No, she's not going to shut up that easily.