“I wanna write!” the voice in my heart cries,
but it’s met with the exasperating exhaustion of imposter syndrome and focusing too much on “perfection”.
Today’s entry is going to differ — what’ll happen is this post will only feature a streamline of my (usually chaotic) thoughts with minimal/no editing. I’m learning to allow myself to play without thinking about an end goal of a perfectly polished piece every time.
Sometimes I just wanna talk to myself on the internet, let me be, k?
(note: the above ^ is me, talking to myself.)
Now on the topic of:
I think about failure a lot. In most of the things I do and in fact, most of the time, way before anything has really happened yet to even get me close to it. But it’s in the shadows – the dark corners of my mind. It’s kind of always been influencing the way I carry myself through projects and all the way down to social connections.
Failure disguises itself as me. It tells me that what I have to say doesn’t really matter in a conversation because it might not contribute in a way that’s helpful or what I say may not be perceived as likeable. A fly on the wall. It’s incredible how much I’ve gone my life monologuing only inside my brain because a) I can’t shut the f*ck up and always have something to say tbh & b) I was incredibly scared of failure. I didn’t want to be weird. I didn’t want to be different. I didn’t want to be authentic because who I was seemed too much to burden others with.
I’m starting to realize I am so weird, different, and authentic.
And um, I love that?
Even while writing this, I will still feel the shivers of failing. Now and probably in my future. But life as we know it, isn’t black and white. You can live with the fear of failure and also live through it fiercely. Failure is important. Failure is, if not one of the most, vital things to the human experience. When we fail, we get a perspective of our lowest points. The next time we approach this situation, we’ll have the knowledge on how to make our way through it more gently. Failure is uncomfortable. Failure can be ruthless. It can feel unfair. But every problem I’ve ever faced with failure, has always given me the tools to try again. And again. And again and again and again
I guess what I’m getting at is, I hope that failure shows itself to me.
I hope that I can sit in the breeze of conflict and watch as my soul sustains weights heavier than it could before.
I hope that when I feel broken or lost, I can remember that who I am in this moment and what I bring to the table is always enough.
There is no “perfection” to living, so why should I hurt myself with saying so?
Yeah, I think that’s all I had to say. For now.