Fail.

 

I’m terrified of failure. Since I was a kid, I’ve always toed the line, often to my detriment. And while this quest for success has served me well in my professional life, it has also chipped away at my core ideas of self-worth and fulfillment.

I haven’t wanted to write for a while. I post on Instagram and Facebook pretty regularly because those don’t require the finesse and structure of a well-written piece. Pithy pieces, clever captions, and a healthy dose of absurdity are all that is needed. Because I am surrounded by kids and dogs, my life is positively doused in inanity. Plenty of laugh-out-loud moments and even more “what the hell just happened” instances. Those one-liners practically write themselves.

But composing something more profound than “look at my cute dog” has become more challenging. I type and hit the backspace key too often, trying to create coherent, heartfelt posts. But dear reader, I am terrified. And so I haven’t wanted to write for a while.

I worry about not being good enough. I panic when words don’t fall where I want them to.
I want to please everyone with artfully composed essays, and anecdotes tucked in and tied up with fetching endings. And when I don’t have a flawless piece to share, I stay away from the keyboard because, heaven forbid, I do something subpar for once.

Obversely, I also don’t want to come across as a perpetual wet blanket. It’s been a rough ride these past few years, and I’m getting worse at keeping up an impassive front. Many of you follow me from my light-hearted Instagram accounts, and I don’t want you to leave here gloomy and pensive. So either I blather on about meaningless fluff, OR I don’t write for days.

So yeah, I’m terrified of failure. Of flaws and humanity and every bump that makes me who I am. Writing here has become akin to climbing this monstrous mountain, fraught with jagged outcroppings and slippery slopes. With time and unhealthy dollops of self-doubt, I have found a way to ruin the ONE skill I was born with.

But worry not, dear reader, for I have a plan. A possible way to pull me out of this quagmire, because I am tired of feeling like a failure.

It’s an uncomplicated plan with 2 steps.
Step 1 – Do. Write. Compose. Conjure. Create.
Step 2 – Keep at it.

Stick around, dear reader. I may surprise you just yet.