Unfortunately, it’s very easy to take a “guilty until proven innocent” standpoint when questioning the authenticity of someone’s identity as a writer, especially your own.
I mean, everyone knows real writers write every single day using a typewriter, never use the word “said”, got published first try, have read the entire works of Shakespeare backwards and were born on a Tuesday. Props to anyone that that describes, but really, the criteria for being a real writer is much simpler:
That’s it. That’s absolutely it. Look up the definition of “writer” and you literally get this:
There’s no word count, no deadline, and no genre pigeonhole that you need to fit. You just have to write.
I’m a slow reader. I have yet to get anything published. I still can’t spell “receive” without the i before e rhyme. I actually wrote a lot of my first book on my phone. I have to regularly remind myself to show, not tell. And that’s before you even take into account that I actually quite liked Twilight (however problematic it was), or that I often go months without even opening my WIPs. It took me a while to accept it, but I’m still very much a real writer. I could go my whole life without getting published or even finishing my book, and I’d still be a real writer.
Now, you can try all you like to beat yourself up about not writing enough or how you believe you should, but if you write, you’re a writer. If the dictionary says it, it must be true.