It has been about two years since I started this blog. It wasn’t always public. I spent the first year in the shadows – hiding from other people and not writing very often. Maybe once a month I would force myself to draft something up. A handful of my first entries never made the cut because I was too shy to share the poems and stories that I wrote about a bromance that was going on next door during quarantine. Maybe I’ll share those soon, but that’s not the point of this post.
The point is that we all start small. I have this complex that makes me think that when I start something, I have to be great at it. Maybe you have this complex too. I put an enormous amount of pressure on myself and when I fail to succeed immediately, I am very unkind to myself. Sometimes I just quit.
I hold myself to an impossible standard. I would never expect anyone else to be an expert without having had any training – but somehow I’m supposed to go from novice to pro overnight. When I stop and take a look at my life – I can see that I’ve never been great at anything right away. It has all taken time, suffering, uncertainty, practice, and finally a sense of understanding.
This blog post is for me. The voice that comes out when I write is so different from the voice inside my head. This voice is reasonable and understanding. It keeps in mind that the world is not black and white. It knows that time and practice will make me better at this and all I have to do is keep taking the leap and being patient with the beginner in me. I would’ve never gotten to know this voice inside my head if I hadn’t kept writing. Onward and upward.