05/ 23/ 2016
On my way back from my parents last Friday, ‘Roar’ came on the radio. Katy was belting her little tiger heart out and I started to cry. I don’t know when I started holding myself back, but it took that dang song to make me realize I had been.
I don’t know how many times I have to preach about overcoming the fear of failure before it actually sticks. I know I haven’t lost my voice but I do know it’s playing a crazy game of hide-and-seek. I keep getting caught up in this self-inflicted comparison trap and it’s killing me. I feel like I have to be someone else. I feel like I have to create tutorials or how-to’s or write advice. I feel like I have to “give the people” something when all I want to do is write. I feel like I have to have a brand because it’s 2016 and if you don’t have a brand you might as well be dead to the internet. But the more I think about what my brand is, the more it feels like I’m trying to box myself in.
I’m done. I’m sick of quitting before I start. I’m sick of trying to think of ideas for clickable content. I’m just going to do what I do. And what I do is write. I’m not writing for you, or Pinterest, or free Blue Apron meals. I’m writing for me. For my sanity. For my heart. I’m writing about what I know and what I live and what I love.
I’m going back to basics. Word by word and hope they eventually flow as organically as they once did. I’m not going to feel dumb writing about the shallowest things like my serious lust for Kim K’s bronde hair. I’m not going to be afraid to write about the afternoons I’ve spent sitting on my couch sobbing. I can’t let the fear of what people might think hold me back.
I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve announced a comeback, but this time I’m sticking with it.
I’m letting go of everything I think I need to be and letting my freak flag fly.