“Rita Noelle” is a pseudonym.
Ever since I was old enough to navigate the Internet on my own, I’ve worn a few masks. They’ve mostly been exaggerations of who I was at the time, made out to be funnier or cleverer or more interesting than I was in real life.
But then, the age of social media came, and the dire warnings against keeping your real identity off the Internet became a thing of the past. Suddenly, everyone was scrambling to display their “real” selves, and your name has, in a way, become your brand. My own real-life self exists on the Internet in this way.
But this blog post is not for her.
“Rita Noelle” is a name I dreamt up one day a few years ago. My personal identity got too attached to my writing, and I got to the point where I was afraid of taking risks for fear of people judging me in real life. Running parallel to this was the feeling that I wasn’t really a writer if I didn’t publish regularly, even in small ways. Literary narcissism mixed with Imposter Syndrome are the perfect recipe for a creative block, and so I wondered: What would happen if I just removed my name from the equation?
And thus, Rita Noelle was born. Rita Noelle is to me what Sasha Fierce is to Beyoncé. It is an elevated version of me, a stage persona. It’s who I become when I put pen to page. And maybe one day I can cast Rita aside the same way Beyoncé has cast aside Sasha.
But that day is not today.
I’m not entirely sure what purpose this blog space will have. Mostly, it just felt strange to not have a blog, to not have a centralized place where I put my writing (outside of Scribophile), but I’m wading into somewhat unfamiliar territory here. Is it usual to be so candid about writing under a pseudonym? Who knows.
But this is me. I am Rita Noelle. And I am a writer, a Millennial, and a pseudonym.