Fear is something that we all deal with every day. Fear of rejection, fear of success, fear of failure and yes, fear of singing a trashy song in a bar at 1:30 am.
We all deal with it every day, and some hide it better than others. Personally I am petrified of my own writing, I fear that my spelling and punctuation errors and sporadic thoughts may lead others to question me. Not question my writing but genuinely question me, my talents, abilities and whether I should be employed.
For me my fear of writing started when I was young, I struggled learning to read and write until I was about eight or nine. And by that time I was far enough behind other students that I perpetually felt like I was playing catch up in learning the basics. The memory of nervously stuttering through reading in class is agonizingly burnt into the back of my head. Hiding in the deepest darkest places of my cerebellum just waiting to pop up and say “Hello” at some of the most inopportune moments.
I battle with it each time I sit down to write and to create, sometimes it its yelling louder than others but it is always there. This is one of the main reasons I am working to write more, because learning to dance with this fear will make me better. If not for the sake of being a better writer with a more developed voice, but a better artist capable of creating great work by entertaining my muse and by keeping my demons at bay.
This is a task easier said than done and while I know that the louder they scream the better the art I am creating. Still bit-by-bit I hope to become better at coming to terms with this vulnerability in my writing.
I’ll be the first to admit this fear is rather irrational, and as a red blooded American male I’d like to think that I am scared of very little. I take risks without batting an eyelash, I sing karaoke sober and love talking in front of people, I wear short shorts while running and I even moved across for love. I am comfortable in my own skin as much as anyone that I interact with and 97% of the time even more so. Some of these things made me bashful at points, but I could put it behind me and move forward. Gradually these hesitations have become less and less powerful once I owned them and owned the consequences that came with them.
That being said if one day I become as comfortable writing as I am wearing short shorts I will have bee successful. But until then I will keep typing away, sharing my thoughts and keeping myself on my toes. Dancing with my fear, and loving every minute it.