On Writing…Again…
Hello again!!!
I know…I know… you all will say, there she is saying again, that she has come back but will disappear for another year and you will all be right in assuming so. I did disappear and that too when it was ‘going good’, and the worst part is I managed to live on despite claiming that writing was my life.
I can tell you about a million things I have done, and been doing since the time I have disappeared, but then the only question that matters – is did any of those things stop me from writing? And my honest answer will be No!
The real reason I did not write is because I was scared. Yes I was afraid to write. Anxious that I wouldn’t be good enough anymore. Terrified to bare a part of my soul, in a world that was beginning to get so claustrophobic.
The self sabotage that I was struggling with wasn’t something new. None of the TV credits, awards and accolades could convince me that I deserved it. And so I just stopped.
Of course, transitioning the blog from one host to another with a corrupted export file and no other copy resulted in me losing my blog…and creating it again from the ground up was…lets just say the thought of it sounded intimidating. I mean I couldn’t do the simplest task right, whose to say I could write even. And so I stopped.
Then I was tempted to do it all over again, and I did set up the new space, and put up a few old posts, but by then I had absolutely convinced myself that no one was reading…and yes you got it right I stopped again. The fear that no one wants to read me was real and staring me right back. I STOPPED!
I did get published in a poetry anthology and earlier this year I won an award INSPIRE BEYOND MOTHERHOOD (Literature). But instead of celebrating I was so scared. I mean could I live up to this. After all it was a humongous deal and a bigger responsibility. And the resounding answer in my head was no. I could never write like that again; I could never bare my heart and soul again. And If I couldn’t do that again, I couldn’t write again. I was the perfect living example of Impostor’s Syndrome messing with your head.
The I got a job and don’t get me wrong I love my job. But hey…my monogamous relationship with writing suddenly turned sour. Mentally I had cheated my words and I thought that they would never forgive me; after all how could they. And so I never began.
And even though my long-standing dream of getting published did come true a while later, it was not exactly a celebration for me. I was missing my blog; I was missing my space but I had convinced myself that I had forgotten my way back. That it does not matter anyway. No one cares that I stopped.
But a couple of things happened. Out of the blue I got a message that reminded me that my voice matters and it is necessary (the details of which is another post completely). Also yesterday, a friend told me, that “JB you are a damn good writer, and it has to matter” And that is when I realised it matters and it has to matter! I must make it matter or in the end its all for nothing ever.
And so here I am typing again, fearfully hoping that I still remember how to write, but knowing in my heart that it matters. I promise to make it matter. I don’t have a posting schedule or a blogging agenda – except writing the words that come straight from the heart and making myself heard and wishing that someone reading this somewhere understands like I did – that its okay to be scared of taking risks, but failure is not about being scared, its about never ever trying. You don’t lose if you don’t bet, but you wont ever win either.
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