“Lauren, you need to start writing again.”
“You’re losing your writing mojo! You’ve probably forgotten how to do it!”
“Lauren, you are literally the worst blogger/writer/human ever.”
“You probably shouldn’t start anything until you’re sure you can knock it out of the water.” (I didn’t notice that confused metaphor until editing this post and left it in as a tribute to my MKdom. . .and eventual senility.)
“Wait until your latest ghost-writing project is finished.”
“Wait ’til after the wedding.”
“Wait until you’re done reading this book.”
“Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow.”
“. . .I don’t have anything to say.”
And that, friends, is the trajectory by which one descends from “blogger” to “former blogger.” Aka: the last two years of my life.
Writing gives me energy, fuels me for life. So why, I ask myself regularly, have I been avoiding it for two years?
I think there is more going on here than the usual, “I’m too tired after work,” and “I’m too busy” and “I’m too lazy.” Though all of the above are certainly factors, I think the real loss of drive was due to fear.
As my readership grew, as I developed a reputation as a “funny blogger,” or a “good writer,” I grew fearful. I did not want to fail. I didn’t want to put myself out there and face rejection or risk disappointing people, even if those people were largely comprised of my family and friends. I began to have expectations for my writing that turned into demands, and suddenly writing wasn’t fun anymore because I couldn’t make it perfect enough, couldn’t make it funny enough, couldn’t make it enough like the “real” blogs out there that I envied.
And so I stopped. I stopped writing about my life, and eventually, I stopped noticing the unique facets thereof that lent my blog some of its. . .we’ll call it “charm.”
And eventually I had nothing to say.
But I’ve grown tired of allowing fear to muzzle and numb me.
My demands for perfection have kept me stymied long enough. My blog will not be perfect, ever. It may not even be great. I may be the worst blogger out there.
But writing is, in part, what I was put on this earth to do. I really believe that. Not because I expect great success via my writing, but because God gave me the gift and desire, and when I write, I feel His pleasure. So this is the first in what I intend to be a foray back into regular posting.
Are you allowing fear to keep you stuck somewhere? Life’s too short, y’all. Go forth. Paint that picture, write that song, hug that tree, and don’t let fear have the last word.