Removing the Mask

The Epiphany that Nearly Ended My Writing Career

I know, I know…

We have all heard this before. Believe me,
I shudder at the thought of bringing you anything besides something you can sink your teeth into.

Something with a bit of meat on the bone. So, if the following seems like you've heard it before, give it a moment. There is more to this than it appears at first glance.

Why Do I Even Bother?

Okay, anyone who has written consistently or even haphazardly has encountered the dreaded advisory known as writer's block.

Writers write about writer's block. No.. Never…

It isn't quite writer's block that I have come to grapple with.

Let me re-diagnose this properly so as not to confuse my dear readers.

My issue is more comparable to a close cousin of writer's block… It's not that I have run out of things to write about, but it's more like a lack of motivation or inspiration.

And let’s be real: inspiration is step one in the writing process; it pairs well with curiosity and intrigue. Without it, there is no curiosity, no impending call to action tugging at you, calling out to you from beyond. Enticing you to dig deeper into the story and learn more about your intended subject.

As you can imagine, this lack of inspiration was posing a bit of a problem. I was growing worried with the passing hours as I sat and stared over at my laptop without my usual excitement to hop on and begin typing away about my latest fascination, inquiry, or commentary to share.

As this dark void grew and became more ominous, I started to wonder what may be causing my disdain on this perfectly normal day. Nothing immediately stood out as out of the ordinary or bothersome, and that was when panic began to set in.

I was experiencing the alarm because I can typically write whenever and wherever. Tuning out the bustling world beyond me has always been something I excelled at.

So, as I was browsing the web, scrolling around, and reading through yet another list of places that will pay you to write, I was hit with this odd sense of being stuck. Like I was running on a perpetual hampster wheel of searching for decent-paying gigs from which I could try my hand at making a few dollars.

I suddenly feel jaded. I wasn’t forging a path into a frontier of new and exciting adventures, but rather, I was walking down a well-worn path that had been beaten to a pulp. Perhaps one that led to nothing more than a dead end.

Don't get me wrong; there is plenty of good writing on the internet, and my lamenting disgust was in no way a representation of the content I was reading.

The other day, I was reading something that gripped me so emotionally that I began to cry. I was entirely moved by the writer's way with words; their investment into crafting such a compelling and beautiful story was hard to ignore, and in that moment, I felt like sometimes people are just born to write.

But then again, some people would be better off finding a different line of work. This is naturally going to happen, and I wish there were more people out there who could move me to feel so intensely with their narratives, be it through laughter, tears, or a thought-provoking question that emotion spills out of me.

That kind of experience is spiritual for me. It is human. It feels authentic and fills me with warmth and gratitude that I am capable of making connections with that story. A story that was written with such care and is filled with the opportunity to find something within it that has value and substance.

I strive to produce the same experience for other readers and make a connection that was previously not in existence.

I strive to enrich another person's understanding of topics that they were void of previously.

Through the stories I share, I wish to allow people to learn what it means to be open to new experiences and find the humanity within themselves and others.

Or am I?

My Own Worst Critic

I began to think about my writing, surveying the work I had done and released into the world. Was I living up to my expectations? Am I embodying what I think is paramount when writing for an audience? Am I even any good?

The common ideology about doing anything you are passionate about is that it doesn't matter if you're good at something; you should do it anyway. I agree with most of that last statement up until a point.

I say yes, do this! But, if you are trying to get paid, you must meet a certain caliber of technical and natural skill. If you want to work as a writer in serious arenas, you need talent and experience; we can all agree on this fact, which, in my case, is my eventual destination.

Making It

I want to write journalistic severe pieces that will be featured in Rolling Stone, Vogue, The New York Times…, and the list continues.

Call me late to the party, but I started earning my bachelor's degree just a year ago and I'll be 37 this June. I have just begun pursuing something difficult, and my time to mess around has come and gone. My clock sits ticking at a surreal pace that is a constant reminder that my life is reaching a milestone somewhere around the middle, and my second act is soon to arrive with a hasty nature I have no choice but to reconcile with.

Another realization is that only some people have made it to the pages of some of the finest publications this side of the Atlantic.

Earning a stable income as a writer can be challenging. But, if it were easy, then everyone would do it. Right?

Fully Saturated

This is another point that I find problematic. Writing has become an increasingly competitive industry, and to shine through the masses, you must possess the ability to touch people with your words, imploring them to get utterly lost in the paragraphs you compose. You must be able to lay down your ego and write with the reader in mind.

It should feel natural to do so, although it is truly a lesson in selflessness underneath it all. To open yourself up and welcome others in the presence of others, to put yourself in their shoes, to see through their eyes. Can you walk a mile in someone else's shoes and escape the experience more objectively than when you began?

I'm up to the job and take my work very seriously. However, dedication to your craft sometimes equates to having the talent to back it all up.

What if I never do make it to the pages of Time magazine? Is my effort all for nothing? I poured thousands of dollars into education, translating to mountains of student debt, but I don't know if I can repay those student loans. The thought of getting an education to work at a less-than-adequate job that I will loathe is terrifying.

All of these questions and uncertainties have left me in a severe slump. The thought of failing as a writer never crossed my mind until now, so my entire plan for the future suddenly seemed different, …tainted.

It was almost as if, in a split second, I had this dark cloud emanating above me, and then it began to rain all my insecurities all over me.

It was as if I was paddling upstream with just one oar.

That Walls Begin Closing In

Let us remember that time is a fickle thing. If this doesn't pan out, I don't have my youth to fall back on. I wasted so much time getting to this point, and now I'm almost scrambling to achieve a sense of purpose and accomplishment that I can associate with my time here on Earth.

What will my impact be on society? What can I do to make my mark on this world? Suddenly, I feel claustrophobic, like the walls are closing in faster than ever.

This entire revelation has been so oppressive it began affecting my creativity flow.

And it has made me feel like I need a hug.

Taking Stock

After about a week and a half of this damper on my inspiration parade, I needed out!

I would tell myself to jump on the keyboard and hammer out something to post, but the entire thing seemed like a waste of time. So, I would sigh and wind up on YouTube searching for tutorials on How to Crochet an Afgan.

Feeling wholly fed up with myself, I finally re-evaluated why I had chosen this route for my second act.

What initially sparked the idea that I could parlay my skills, pool my time, and channel everything I had into this career choice?

Duh!

Let's say it took me a while to figure it out. I racked my brain, attempting to nail down the point where I threw caution to the wind and decided to bet it all on my unsubstantiated clue that I could write for a living.

And that is when it dawned on my doubtful, ponderous mind.

I have been a writer for far longer than last year. Although I may have recently begun pursuing it as my profession, I have always had a profound connection to this medium of creative expression.

Before, I was so brazen that I believed I could make money from writing down my words for others to read. I loved to put pen to paper and just let everything out on the pad.

I've never doubted myself because my love for writing is a big part of my skill set. It shows in every nuanced sense of the writing process I articulate.

It's in how I structure my sentences and every word I select to convey my point of view. It's in the imagery, the artistry of painting of a time and place using descriptions and metaphors and telling the stories of the people there.

When you are a writer, no matter the subject, you pour your heart and soul into it, be it fiction, autobiographical, tutorial, or writing a company profile.

Suddenly, my imposter syndrome faded away like a thick, heavy fog lifting in the early hours of a damp and muggy morning: the dewy grass underfoot and the fragile light breaking over the horizon to usher in the new day.

My heart must have skipped a beat as I felt a resurgence of excited anticipation to get back to my keyboard and write anything! As long as my heart was in it. My love for writing will still accompany me when writing my next story.

No Sap, Just Some Good Advice

I share this with you, dear reader, because everyone will find their reasons to justify their path in life. As humans, we know that you must believe you can do something in order to convince others of the same notion.

But no level of technical skill will ever be able to account for your belief in your ability to accomplish anything, writing, learning how to develop apps, running a successful business, or shit, even running for president! You need to have that knowing, that belief tossed into your bag of skills with everything else you learn along the way if you intend to realize your goals.

The fear and anxiety I was feeling nearly stopped me dead in my tracks before I even got close enough to find out if my dreams were to become reality. By putting up that wall, I almost did myself one of the most horrific injustices I could have committed against myself.

Remember why you came. Most people who ask themselves what happened to their joy and lust for life get there because they are afraid. They let their fear take the wheel and park their vehicle in a comfort zone that would become more difficult to escape the longer they stayed inside.

So, I guess the moral of the story here is:

Never let your fear and insecurities drive you to misery. Take the necessary risks to pursue the less commonly traveled roads. Your future self will never look at the journey with a regretful and heavy heart, and you might just find that you have made it to where you always wanted to be.