Wilder in Real Life: My Wonderful Self

If you’ve been following my column you have a pretty good idea of how I feel about not measuring up to other people my age.

Maybe, you didn’t catch on to it, but I have a problem with comparing myself to other people.  Recently, I was questioned about my greatness.  No,  really someone asked me, “What makes you so great?”  It was thrown in my face that my bank account wasn’t plentiful and that i didn’t have some impressive career.   If this had been a year or even a few months ago I would’ve been in tears.  All I could think was, ‘Is this person seriously asking me this?’  I was also deemed an “wannabe” writer.

You know something?  I laughed.  I can perform a Google search on my blog and it shows up.  If you type in my name you’ll find articles.   I have the privilege of sharing my life lessons and experiences with you all every month with open arms from the editorial staff.  No, I’m not at some major nationally circulated print publication.  I’m perfectly happy where I am with my writing.  I can do exactly what and when I want.  If I feel the urge to pitch stories around the city then I do it.  Don’t get me wrong it’s great to be connected with fellow writers in “higher” places.  Right now, if someone cannot connect me to a publisher owner chances are I won’t land a job.   It’s a game of nepotism and more than who you know, it’s what’s their rank?  I’m not in college anymore hoping to get to talk to an editor who usually gave me advice and never spoke to them again.  Then I needed it and to this day I truly appreciated it because I’ve learned that I must make my own way.

As for my bank account?  Money never has or never will make me.

My professional career?  I do a variety of jobs to make it and works.  Writing is something that I do that makes me feel good, but it isn’t who I am.

So what is it that makes Lauren Wilder aka Wilder in Real Life so great?   I could sit here and market myself to you, but if you have to ask go ahead and shoot me an email.  No, seriously.

It’s taken me a long time to get to the point where I can say, “I love you, Lauren, with all my heart.”  Since I’ve gotten here I can let things roll off more of course I get upset and disappointed.  Then I have to remind myself others don’t define me, I do.  I’m sharing this with you all as not a tangent, an epiphany, or some ego trip.  I’m sharing this because if you’re not to the point where you don’t let the material things, career, and aesthetics define you…then something is coming to shake everything.

There’s a poem called “Ego Tripping (there may be a reason why” by Nikki Giovanni;  I try to remain humble, but man does this poem make me smile.
I was born in the congo
I walked to the fertile crescent and built
the sphinx
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light
I am bad

I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the nile
I am a beautiful woman

I gazed on the forest and burned
out the sahara desert
with a packet of goat’s meat
and a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can’t catch me

For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son hannibal an elephant
He gave me rome for mother’s day
My strength flows ever on

My son noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save

I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels
On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents

I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended except by my permission

I mean…I…can fly
like a bird in the sky…



What’s Wilder up to?



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