“You should write a blog.”

She said it with such conviction, “I mean it, you should write a blog. I’d love to read it.” My heart swelled and a smile filled my face. I really should, I thought, I love to write. Women have this effect on me. There’s something about femininity that I trust so quickly. Men I’ll be stubborn with, but a woman who dreams for me? I’d carry a ring into Mordor if it were Galadriel who’d asked it of me.

Of course, I then sit down to write. The process of writing is so different from the dreaming of it. There’s a blank page in front of me, in this instance a blank screen on an iPad with the Notes App opened to an empty folder called “Blog?” I decide first to move a few things from the folders “Notes” and “Journal” into “Blog?” There now, much less intimidating. It isn’t, however, any less intimidating.

You see, I’m a sham. A fraud. A con artist. A charlatan. How could I write about anything with conviction? I mean, gods, five years ago I was a polyamorous, married, gay man and now I’m a divorced, straight woman. (Okay, maybe I could write about that humbling coming out process.) Surely I don’t have anything valuable to share anyway. I think of myself as frivolous, fluffy, and vapid. I told my voice teacher once, “I’m merely a songbird and the world is at war. What use is that?”

I’m merely a songbird.

What a funny thing to say when it is other songbirds who have changed my life. When Frederica von Stade sang from Rusalka during a concert celebrating Dvorak, do you think she knew what comfort she would bring me over the course of many dark periods of my life? Did Hayley Williams know that her solo albums would lead me so thoroughly through the grieving process during my divorce? Did Sade understand how deeply she would influence my understanding of sensuality and womanhood?

Maybe they did, the small cruel voice whispers. These woman clearly have a purpose in life but surely you don’t. There’s another side to that coin, however. When did these artists feel like frauds, shams, and charlatans. When might they have questioned their conviction and their voice. Maybe even now across thousands of miles and communities apart, some of my favorite artists feel exactly as I do as I sit down to write today.

So I shall write. I shall sing. I shall draw silly fantasy characters on my silly iPad while I listen to silly video game music. I will let that small, cruel voice whisper to me until the gentle one is ready to speak again. That gentle voice will speak and it will say, Everything you wish to do, you are capable of. The yearning that exists in your body is worthy of listening to. Like any songbird, you need not know your songs purpose. Those who listen will decide for themselves as long as you sing.

So, quite simply, sing.