I'm not exactly sure when the fear of writing crept in and laid camp but it did and it was intense.
Writing is something I started doing when I needed a find a way to share my thoughts, my emotions and of course, pieces of my wild imagination.It began as an activity that was natural to me and for a long time, it felt good to write. After a while, I wrote a few things that went to a few places that turned some heads. It wasn't about trying to impress anyone at all, it was just "hey, here's a shot, I'll take it." no second thought.
It felt great to get some kind of recognition for something that I did in my spare time.
One day, I heard someone say something negative. Then another, then another. And slowly, I was engulfed in this wave of
"you are not a good writer and nothing is going to come out of it" My curiosity to try and fail was completely stripped away.
It's funny how getting 10 praises never hit as hard as one low blow. It became personal. It stopped me dead in my tracks. It cut deeper and it was rough.
I almost don't know who that girl was, the one who used to write without care of typo or grammar mistakes - just focused on sharing an idea.
I went through a dip there. I lost all confidence in myself as anything and had to find a new rope to hang onto, something like the last drop of blood travelling through a weak vein.
No one tells you or even prepares you for the hits of self-doubt and depression. Maybe because they don't even recognize the tune they are also dancing to themselves.
Nonetheless, we must rise. I am. Trying. Pushing. Fighting to not just gets back to also raise the standards I once had.
I feel a weird pressure when I say I'm a writer now, but I'll get used to it. It's one of my many skills and ain't nothing but a thang.
I'm not perfect, but I am good.
It felt great to get some kind of recognition for something that I did in my spare time.
One day, I heard someone say something negative. Then another, then another. And slowly, I was engulfed in this wave of
"you are not a good writer and nothing is going to come out of it" My curiosity to try and fail was completely stripped away.
It's funny how getting 10 praises never hit as hard as one low blow. It became personal. It stopped me dead in my tracks. It cut deeper and it was rough.
I almost don't know who that girl was, the one who used to write without care of typo or grammar mistakes - just focused on sharing an idea.
I went through a dip there. I lost all confidence in myself as anything and had to find a new rope to hang onto, something like the last drop of blood travelling through a weak vein.
No one tells you or even prepares you for the hits of self-doubt and depression. Maybe because they don't even recognize the tune they are also dancing to themselves.
Nonetheless, we must rise. I am. Trying. Pushing. Fighting to not just gets back to also raise the standards I once had.
I feel a weird pressure when I say I'm a writer now, but I'll get used to it. It's one of my many skills and ain't nothing but a thang.
I'm not perfect, but I am good.
Good enough to get started on the journey to get better and maybe even great.
And I'll keep getting better.
Because right now, I'm brave enough to fvck it up and learn as I go.
Because right now, I'm brave enough to fvck it up and learn as I go.
1 Comments
You are a great writer Comfort. I usually drop by to check for new comment. your long lost friend, Charles
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