Category Archives: Reflections

Changing, Depression, Discovery, Greatness, Growth, Healing, Mental Health, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness, Writing

Growing Pains

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“Life is what you make of it.” A statement that I’ve gone back and forth on for years. When I was younger, it was a phrase that limited me, held me back. It added extra pressure in ways that weren’t beneficial. As a depressed teenager, this was one of my main trigger phrases. C’mon you know them. Things like, “just be happy,” or “look on the bright side,” or “you’ll be okay.” All phrases that are seemingly harmless to the neurotypical, but from the outside looking in, you have no idea how damaging such phrases can be to the neurodivergent, even if your intentions are pure (yes, I know that depression and anxiety aren’t traditionally counted among the neurodivergent, but I beg to differ). 

Deep down, I knew that these statements all had a grain of truth to them, but this wasn’t what I wanted to hear at all. The truth is I was already too psychologically unstable for any of this stuff to resonate. By the time my mom started throwing these phrases at me in my later high school years, it was already too late. I had already closed myself off to the world. Put up my barriers. Conditioned myself to expect the worst. Convinced myself of my worthlessness. I had zero belief in myself or my ability. So how could you say those things to me? How could you tell me that life is what you make of it, if I didn’t think I was capable of doing anything worthwhile? How could you tell me to just be happy, if I no longer remembered what happiness felt like? How could you tell me to look on the bright side, if I felt like the bright side had already passed me by?

I was already too blinded by my pessimism. Too worn down by life’s struggles to be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It was hard for me to see a way through when my mind was clouded by the darkness inside. It was hard for me to believe that the sun would shine again, when I was under a perpetual rain cloud. So, it really didn’t matter how true these statements were (or weren’t), there was no getting through to me in my emotional state. And that’s part of the reason why things never really got better for me for the longest time—because my perspective on life hadn’t changed. I was trying to do things differently while maintaining the same thought process. Which, I’ve learned the hard way doesn’t often work out. If you want real change in your life, you can’t be half-in/half-out. You’re either committed or you’re not.

Of course, I’m oversimplifying it quite a bit, but think about it. If you lack commitment or if you’re not serious enough about wanting to change, you’re not going to do everything within your power to see that happen. It’ll be easier for you to make excuses or justify bad habits by saying, “but that’s the way I’ve always done it.” Easier to revert to old ways. Easier to give up when the going gets tough. In order to move onward and upward, you need to be able to look at your life holistically and determine what needs changing and what doesn’t. It’s hard to do that without changing your perspective. That’s not to say that it can’t be done, only that it makes it more challenging. You do, however, have to look at it on a case by case basis. In my case, I was doing myself a disservice by putting obstacles in my own way. By not committing to change I was only setting myself up for failure. By not changing my perspective I was only delaying healing and progress. 

Some people are born with confidence, or an innate desire to strive for better, or are naturally able to self-motivate and push themselves without any outside influence. Some people need to be taught these things. Some people need outside motivation to start the ball rolling. And some people are able to discover all of this on their own, but it might take some time. None of these approaches is inherently wrong, just different. As I’ve said before, each person has their own unique story to tell. No two people are blessed with the exact same gifts. No two people have the same weaknesses or face the same adversity. As such, each person goes through different stages of their lives at their own pace. At some point in your life you’ll have to learn to accept this.

The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll be able to start figuring out how to navigate through life. It feels like we’re way too hard on ourselves sometimes. We beat ourselves up for mistakes that we’ve made. We don’t show ourselves enough patience or compassion. We see others thriving or making something of themselves, and we ask ourselves, “why am I such a loser,” or “what’s wrong with me,” or “why do I suck?” Instead of thinking about the steps that we need to take to get us there, we self-deprecate. We question our worth. We start doubting ourselves and our abilities. And it feels natural for us to do so! But this is an unhealthy way of thinking, and one that you need to try to break out of as soon as you can. You wouldn’t say such things to your friends or treat them that poorly. So why are you doing it to yourself? Show yourself some grace, and stop comparing yourself to others! Each situation is different, and as such, results will vary.

Easier said than done, as with all things. But you’ll feel better for it. Instead of comparing yourselves to others, compare who you are now to who you were then. I can guarantee you that there’s been some changes along the way—some good, some bad. Embrace them and rejoice in them. Each day is different. Some days will feel like a step in the right direction, some days won’t. But you can’t let a bad day ruin your week or your month or your year. Think about what you’re passionate about, and plant a purpose or goals in your mind. Figure out what you want to do in life, and go from there. And focus on controlling what you can control, which are namely your effort, consistency, drive, and discipline. If you can maintain your effort and consistency, drive and discipline will come in time. Remember that you can’t control how people react, you can only control what you put out. Once you embrace that, it’ll be easier for you to put your head down and get to work. But that will require you to develop a thicker skin, to build up some mental fortitude.

All that will come in time, and with experience. Unfortunately, the only way to do that is to face your adversity head on. Which will hurt in the moment, but you’ll be better off in the end. Take it from me. As we’ve discussed before, I used to shut down when faced with adversity. I tried to run or hide every time, but I was only delaying the inevitable. The running and the hiding would only end up taking me so far. Ignoring my problems didn’t make them diminish or go away. In fact, it actually made them worse, far worse. It took years of therapy to break down my bad habits. To rid myself of my unhealthy way of thinking. To undo the harm I did to myself psychologically. It took even longer than that to change my perspective. To discover my passion. To find happiness. To build up confidence. 

It turns out that my mom was right after all. All I needed was a different perspective. But it was much much harder than she had made it seem. It wasn’t something that could be changed at the drop of a hat. It wasn’t something that would just click right away. It took a lot of effort and discipline. And I needed to condition and recondition myself in order to have a healthier mindset. But I was able to do it in the end. I came out of all of this stronger and more equipped to deal with whatever life throws at me. I’ve finally come to a place that I feel really good about. I’m excited about where I am and I’m motivated to continue to try to get to where I wanna go. 

And I want the same thing for you. I want to see you thrive. I want to see you pursue greatness. We were put here on this earth to build others up, not tear others down. Success breeds success. Positive energy is contagious. Surround yourself with individuals who are trying to be better versions of themselves each and every day, and soon you’ll see yourself wanting to do the same. Encourage each other, and eventually you’ll be able to get to where you want to go, together. We were all meant for great things in life. We are all more than capable. We are all talented and skilled in our own ways. No one was brought into life, destined to be mediocre. You can change your “fate.” Your life does not follow a script. You are in control of your life, your life is not in control of you.

Adversity. Challenges. Difficulties. Tough times. Rough days. They’re all a part of life. Everyone goes through them, but each person is given a unique set of circumstances. But these circumstances do not define or constrain you. You can change the narrative—you just have to to commit to it. Life isn’t about what you go through, but how you deal with it. Your adversity does not make you who you are, your fight does. I promise you you’ll come out of it stronger. It won’t be easy, but you’ll make it through—I have faith in you. It’ll be a tough road to get to greatness, but anything worth doing will cost you blood, sweat, and tears. The tough times aren’t setbacks, they’re just growing pains.

Discovery, Doubt, Greatness, Growth, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness, Writing

I Still Believe

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I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of being patient. When will my time come? I knew going into this that I wasn’t going to get immediate results. I knew that it would take time, effort, and patience. So, I did what I needed to do: I put my head down and got to work. It was meant to be a two-pronged approach that kept me focused in the interim. It allowed me to perfect my storytelling craft in quiet, while still having something to show for it on this platform. But I can’t help but feel like I haven’t really gotten any closer to where I wanna go. It’s gotten increasingly harder for me to maintain my focus.

At first, it was easy for me to ignore all the distractions. I knew that my quality of writing needed to improve drastically if I wanted to make this work. It wasn’t particularly difficult to keep my head down then, since in my mind it was a tangible goal to reach for—even if the line between not good enough and where I need to be was rather blurry. But now that I’ve leveled up to a place that I feel good about, I feel like I’d like something more. I’ve spent enough time toiling in the workshop, I want to show the world what I’ve learned and how much I’ve improved. I feel like I have a lot to offer to the people around me. Unfortunately, I continue to learn time and time again that what I want isn’t necessarily what the universe is willing to provide. In fact, it seems that more often than not the two don’t align at all.

It seems that love, support, and appreciation is hard to come by these days. It just feels like no matter what I do or how hard I try I just can’t get the backing that I’m looking for. I understand that people don’t care about the same things that I care about. Most people aren’t going to prioritize mental health or writing or poetry the way that I do. That’s just the honest truth. I’m not so naive that I’ll believe otherwise. And I’m not so arrogant or entitled to believe that I’m owed anything from anyone. However, I feel like I should at least get what I deserve—I should get as much out of it as I put into it. That’s only fair, right? Unfortunately, I continue to learn the hard way that life isn’t fair either. The scale isn’t balanced. And perhaps karma is just a fallacy. A concept that’s better in theory than it is in practice. Merely an ideal and not reality. 

You have no idea how much it pains me to say that. While I’m not going to go so far as to proclaim that, “karma is a lie,” I have to accept that there’s a possibility that it isn’t a law of the universe like I want to believe. I’m not sure when exactly it happened, but for some time now, a large component of my ethos has been the concept of meritocracy. You get what you give. You’re rewarded according to your skill and what you’re able to provide. If you work hard and do good, blessings will come to you. If you insert positive energy into the world, you’ll receive positive energy in turn. Good ideals to have, but I’ve started to wonder as well, whether or not this is rooted in truth.

For the last four years or so, I was so confident that I had the right of it. All I had to do was put in the time, effort and energy, and things would come together for me. While I still want to believe that, and will continue to operate like it’s true, I’m just not so sure anymore. My hard work hasn’t paid off yet. Again, I understand that it takes time, but I guess I just thought things would play out differently. I thought what I had to offer the world would be well-received. That’s not how things have gone, to say the least. While I haven’t received outright hate or negativity (at least, not in a long time), I’ve received quite a bit of apathy and indifference, which frankly, I’m getting rather tired of. Of course, I was expecting such a reception—it’s the life of a starving artist after all (name me a group of people more misunderstood than creatives, I’ll wait)—but I had thought it’d be to a lesser degree. 

I almost feel like I prefer the former rather than the latter. Hate and negativity is easier to tune out, especially if you’re confident and know your worth. You know what you’re capable of. If you’ve been busting your ass at something you’re passionate about, you will improve—that’s just a fact of life. At some point, you will reach a baseline competency in the quality of your product and your skillset. Your haters and doubters won’t have a leg to stand on. Anything they say will come off as petty jealousy or spite. Easy to ignore because you know that what they have to say is neither meaningful nor true. There’s nothing that needs to be read into further, because how they feel about you is out in the open.

Not so when it comes to indifference. When it comes to indifference nothing is overt or straightforward. It’s a cloak and dagger operation rife with obfuscation, projection, and misunderstanding/misinterpretation. How exactly are you supposed to read into the lack of action? Do they not care? If so, why not? Does what you have to say not matter to them? Do you not matter to them? Or do they simply not understand what it is you’re trying to do? How exactly are you supposed to know without confronting them? Finding out the truth will likely lead to uncomfortable situations, however. Easier then to decide to just leave things as they are—keep the truth hidden somewhere in the dark. But that’s never sat well with me. It feels too much like a game of chicken. One party is too afraid to ask the other how they truly feel, and the other party isn’t willing to commit, for whatever reason. Which leaves us at an impasse which will never be resolved unless someone budges.

I dunno about you, but I’m too old to be playing such games. If you’re on my side then prove it. Actions speak louder than words. Don’t just tell me you want to see me succeed, show it to me. I don’t think I’m asking for much here. If you care about me (or cared about me once) then you should care about the work that I do. It’s as simple as that. No fakery or hidden meanings. Do I matter to you? Yes or no? That’s a question for you to ponder, and one that I’m going to condition myself to ignore. Easier said than done, of course—like most things. But something I have to keep reminding myself of, because at the end of the day, what you think about my work doesn’t actually matter. I’m not saying that your opinion doesn’t matter, to be clear. I’m saying that your opinion about what I’m doing is irrelevant to my goal(s). 

Throughout life there will be people who support you and people that will doubt you. You will have lovers and you will have haters. People will praise you and people will shit on you. These are facts of life. You can’t please everybody because everybody is different. Some worldviews align with each other, and some clash. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you’ll realize that all feedback is noise, good or bad. Criticism, constructive or otherwise, either helps you improve or it gets in your way. You take what’s beneficial, and you throw out the rest. 

That being said, I’m not going to beg. I’m not going to hold my breath waiting for support to come from the indifferent—that’s never going to happen. I’m not going to throw a pity party and say, “woe is me…” I already did enough of that in my youth. Instead, I will focus on me and what I can do. How can I be a better writer? How can I be a better mental health advocate? How can I be a better storyteller, poet, editor or what have you? How can I live the life that I think I deserve? I can only control what I can control. And it starts with my effort and my consistency. I can’t let up for a second. I can’t afford to lose my focus. I can’t let anything get in the way of my goal. Some day I’ll get to where I wanna go, but only if I keep following through. There’s no such thing as failure, only lessons. The only way I fail is if I give up. And I’ll tell you this much: that ain’t happening, as long as the passion is there. You might not believe in me, but I believe in me. And that’s all that matters. 

Existentialism, people, Poetry, Questions, Reflections, Writing

Karma?

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You get what you give
So I’ve been told
But it doesn’t always feel that way
It seems quite often that the equation isn’t equal
The universe demands balance
But there isn’t any to be found

You get what you give
They’ve said it time and time again
I believed it at first
But I’ve started to have doubts
The scale isn’t balanced
Hasn’t been for a while

You get what you give
Good begets good
Evil begets evil
It seemed a simple truth
But now I’m not so sure
Could it actually be more nuanced than that?

If that were true would there still be pain and strife?
Would only the evil get cancer?
Would the good be destined for a blessed life?
The universe is random, putting jumbled pieces together
It strives for balance
But it isn’t always attainable

You get what you give
That’s the way it should work
But it’s better in theory
As with most things in this world
Concepts that had been conceived from a pure heart
But ones that have been perverted by humanity

You get what you give
I wished I believed
But everyone’s so fucked up
For karmic balance, for utopia, for unity
Oh, woe is me. Oh, woe is me.
What’s come of humanity?

Changing, Discovery, Growth, Healing, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

Great Expectations

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I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. I never really have (aside from a handful of times). Truth be told “resolution” is a word that I’m not too fond of to begin with. It’s too definite and suffocating. It’s a results-driven word that sets up a pass/fail scenario. Did I see my resolutions through to the end? If yes, then I succeeded. If no, then I didn’t. For some, it’s not a huge deal. They might say, “oh well, I’ll try again next year.” Or use some other justification. But for someone who overthinks as much as I do, and used to struggle with self-confidence the way I did it could instead be quite damning. The prospect of failure was too much for me to bear.

Before I started seeing a therapist, I had a tendency to spiral. I’d replay scenarios in my head, wallow in self-pity, and I took failure personally. Every time something didn’t go as planned or ended in a negative result my confidence meter took a hit. As I’ve said before, I was not well-equipped to handle adversity, had no self-awareness, didn’t have an ounce of mental fortitude. When times got tough I withered. When the pressure was on I came up small. When misfortune hit everything cratered. So for me, a failed resolution became another reason for why I didn’t deserve to live. I took it as proof that I was worthless, and would always amount to nothing. 

So why bother making them if I was certain they would fail? Why risk it when disappointment was likely inevitable? Not a healthy train of thought in the slightest, but I was not a healthy person. As you know, in the past few years I’ve found my healing. I’ve changed and I’ve grown. I’m not the same scared kid that I used to be. I’m not the same person that used to break easily. I’m not the same guy that looked for excuses not to try. But as much as I’ve changed, a few things still remain. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, and I probably never will. Perhaps deep down I’m still worried about the pain that failure might cause? Perhaps not. 

Either way, the tradition is results-driven, and as you’ve probably noticed by now I am much more process-driven. I hold myself to a certain standard and I’ll settle for nothing less. I’ve lucked into positive results in the past, but was never able to sustain the success, because I hadn’t set myself up for the future. In order to get repeated good results, you need to firm up your process. It’s hard to do that if you’re not meeting the standard. If I’m being honest, that type of outcome—success without meeting the standard—is futile to me. If the changes I make aren’t permanent, then it’s wasted effort. Everything I do henceforth would be done in hopes that I would hit the mark without knowing how I actually did it the first time. Which is only wasting time. Think of it like an experiment. You write out the steps you need to take in order to get the results that you want. If there’s a mistake in your process, you tinker then try again. And again and again and again. That’s how you learn and grow and improve. By finding out what works and what doesn’t work, and changing your process accordingly.

This is exactly what I lacked when I was in high school—the ability to adapt. I didn’t have a process whatsoever, let alone a sound one. But I still expected success to come of it. I still expected things to work out in my favor, meanwhile ignoring the fact that I had done nothing to ensure such results. You can’t get good grades unless you study the material. You can’t get a girlfriend unless you develop some sort of connection first. You can’t find success unless you put in the work. Sounds obvious, but it wasn’t to me. For whatever reason, I had thought I was a special case. I thought I could get positive results without putting in much effort. In truth, I think at times I was just too smart for my own good. Elementary school came easy to me, so I continued to expect more of the same. I should’ve known that eventually it would catch up to me. But I remained blissfully ignorant and unaware until it was too late.

By that point, I was in college, and in way over my head. Throughout Junior High and High School I had put in the minimum level of effort required to come away with mostly B’s, some A’s, and a handful of C’s. Which was acceptable to me, but beneath my level of care. I kept asking myself, “why put in all that effort if I can do less and still come away with adequate results?” I thought I was being smart, but little did I know that this was always going to come back to bite me. I approached my college courses with the same level of inattention, and I suffered the consequences for it—coming away with the first and last D I ever received. Which nearly ruined my college career right when I had just begun. But I put my head down and got serious, because what else could I do? I needed to right the ship immediately.

After some steady effort for the next three and a half years, I was able to bring my GPA back up to something respectable. But what could’ve been? How different would my life have turned out if I’d actually tried? What if I hadn’t talked myself into accepting a life of mediocrity? What if I had worked diligently the whole time, rather than only for the last handful of years? What if I had been as determined then as I am now? Unfortunately, these are not questions that we will ever get the answers to. Who I was then is not who I am now. I wasn’t someone capable of pushing through adversity. I was weak-willed, a quitter—someone who always took the easy way out. Someone who was used to running away or hiding. Someone who was pampered and sheltered. Someone who never took responsibility or held himself accountable. I thought that all mistakes could be covered up, and that I could lie and weasel my way out of the consequences. I lacked the self-awareness necessary to realize that I wasn’t fooling anyone.

And yet, I somehow lucked my way into mild success. Again, nothing sustainable because I didn’t have a sound process, but it was better than what I’d experienced up til then. For the first time in twenty-four years I was content. But the contentedness was fleeting. As I gained more responsibility at my job, the work became less fulfilling. And the little confidence I had gained whittled away again, and I was left with even less than I’d started with. Little did I know, but I wasn’t meant for the corporate world. I had only entered into it because, like always, I had taken the easy way out. When I left high school I didn’t have a plan—I hadn’t spent much time thinking about my future. Which is fine for someone of that age. It’s perfectly acceptable to start college with “undecided” for a major. But the thought had never crossed my mind. Instead, I pursued one of the career paths that I thought would be acceptable to my parents. I didn’t have the grades or the patience for a STEM major, so I studied Business instead.

But that was never my interest or who I was. It wasn’t what I was meant to do. I wasn’t a marketing analyst like I had thought. I wasn’t a salesman like my employer had told me. I wasn’t even a customer service representative even though I was good at it. I’m a writer and a storyteller. A creative and an artist. I was meant to craft sentences and build worlds. I was meant to wordplay. That is what I am and that is who I will be. I’ve learned a lot since I dedicated myself to this blog in 2020. It’s been a long journey with many twists and turns. Up until last year I was learning on the job, getting better incrementally but not getting good enough or progressing fast enough. That much changed when I found a writing community. I started to receive the feedback that I needed to hear in order for me to level up my ability. The year 2023 was a blessing, and I’m looking forward to seeing what 2024 can do for me.

So as the calendar crosses over, what am I hoping to accomplish? What am I expecting from the new year? As I said, I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. But I will set expectations. I expect to continue to improve as a writer and a storyteller each and every day. I expect to be able to write free of hindrance—no longer will I question whether or not I’m good enough. I expect my words to flow easier than they did before. I expect my story to be more coherent. I expect to continue to foster relationships with other aspiring authors. I expect to continue to learn from both the good and bad in life. I expect to become a better person this year than I was last year. But most of all, I expect abundance, growth, and blessings. Something good will come of your life if you only continue to work.

Changing, Discovery, Growth, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness, Writing

The Best Things in Life

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So, it’s been some time since my last blog post. I apologize for that. I was working on something that I wasn’t thrilled about, which I ended up scrapping (I probably took too long to make that decision though). So we ended up with a break in the action. That wasn’t intentional. After that, I ended up hitting a bit of a rough patch, but I’m good now. Up until that though, I was still working hard and writing every day. Those few weeks were still really productive. But my time and focus was used differently. 

I’ve talked before about the ebbs and flows of the writing process. And it becomes steadily clearer to me each week. As I’ve mentioned before, I spend my time on four different types of writing: critiques, blogging, fiction, and poetry. In my head, each thing is weighted differently in terms of priority, but it doesn’t always work out the way I intend. The amount of time and focus I spend on each thing differs day by day and week by week. The interesting thing about it though is that you can be doing really well with one aspect of writing, while struggling with another. Or it could all be going well or all be going poorly. For a while it seemed like my fiction writing and my blogging kept switching places. It was almost like I could write a good chapter or write a blog post that I was happy with, but I couldn’t do both concurrently. 

It’s possible that I’m just spreading myself too thin, but I’d like to believe that it’s not the case. There are many other writers out there that work on multiple projects at once, some published authors, some not. If people that are much busier than I am can do it, then why can’t I? Truth be told, I’m still relatively new to this, so I think I just haven’t found what works best for me yet. I’m still tinkering around and trying to streamline my process. Unfortunately, as I’ve said before, things haven’t worked out quite the way that I anticipated. You can chalk most of that up to inexperience and setting incorrect expectations. But another part of it was also all that time that I had spent writing in isolation, which unbeknownst to me really hindered my growth.

When I first started writing in earnest in 2020, it started out as just trial and error. Testing out the waters to see if I could do it. I had naively assumed that God-given talent would be enough. If I could form a well-written sentence then I could write a blog post. If I could write a blog post then I could write a chapter. If I could write a chapter then I could write a novel. Technically, all that is true, but it’s not that simple. It takes more than that, which I learned the hard way in 2022. If you really think about it though, why should that come as a surprise? If we believe that the best things in life require maximum effort and dedication, then naturally if we want to excel at anything then we need to learn as much as we can about that topic. That requires you to work on your weaknesses not just your strengths. To also focus on the areas that don’t interest you at all or interest you less. To spend time on the tedious as well as the entertaining. But most importantly, you need to step out of your comfort zone. You need to ask yourself tough questions. You need to try new things. To change up your approach if necessary. 

For two and a half years, I did none of that. I cruised along thinking that I was ready for this, when in fact I was nowhere near. But pressure and expectations were low, which gave me the freedom to focus on writing consistently. Which at the very least was a good first step. For half a decade or more before that I blogged on and off, binge writing at times, but going through long periods of inactivity in between. At least now I was writing regularly in my free time either after work or on the weekends, which was good. But I was trying to crank through as many posts and chapters as I could. I valued speed over quality, which is somewhat ironic considering the length of time spent on some of those posts. I hadn’t yet learned what it meant to, “kill your darlings.” Thus I edited lightly without a keen enough eye. I grew attached to sentences and paragraphs, which led me on tangents that caused my writing style to read like stream of consciousness at times. Resulting in posts that were far too long and likely quite boring to read. 

I’ve always had a knack for wordplay and sentence structure, so I’d like to think that I started out with a higher base level of talent. Whether or not that’s actually true isn’t all that important though. Just because I had that in my back pocket didn’t mean that I was a good writer, let alone a great one. All it meant was that I could craft a sentence—nothing more, nothing less. In the first three years I was learning how to write, and writing more consistently, but I wasn’t improving enough as a writer or as a storyteller. I was nowhere near the level I needed to be at, and I wasn’t progressing towards that, which I completely failed to realize. That’s because I hadn’t yet stepped out of my comfort zone or started taking enough risks, as much as I wanted to believe otherwise.

Instead, I was already falling into bad habits, walking into traps, and blundering into rookie mistakes. But what did I know? I had never written creatively before aside from an ungraded course I had taken my freshman year of college. The purpose of that class wasn’t even to learn how to write, it was geared towards bonding with other freshmen! And outside of a required writing class I had taken that same year I had never critiqued peer work. That being said, the only writing experience I really had were papers and projects I had written for various classes, and the only feedback I’d gotten were the grades and comments from teachers and professors. Not much of anything to say the least. But that didn’t stop me from developing an inflated ego. Not my finest moment.

What I needed was a kick in the pants. Something to knock me off my high horse. I wasn’t some fancy big-shot writer. I was an amateur, same as everyone else. I thought I could make it work, but I hadn’t started from the ground up, so didn’t have a firm foundation. I didn’t have the right mindset. I knew better though, didn’t I? I should’ve taken the same lessons I had learned in therapy and applied them to this new hobby. My therapist had taught me to be even-keeled, not to be too high or too low, to reset to zero when needed. She had helped me become confident in myself while remaining humble. She had shown me how to act like I knew nothing, and that there was everything left to learn. That’s where I should’ve started—with no preconceptions, without conceit. I needed to learn how to write well before I could claim to be a writer.

No wonder then that things didn’t work out as planned. No wonder then that I found myself burnt out eight months after I quit my day job. I didn’t have what it took to live the life I wanted to live. And thus, I found myself in therapy once again. And as tough as it was to uncover things about my past yet again, it did me a whole lot of good. Without it I never would’ve found a writing community, and my writing never would’ve improved. As I’ve said before, the first four to five months of posting chapters for critique were difficult. But again, what did I expect? I had never done it before, so therefore didn’t have an accurate gauge on my writing ability. I needed to be put in my place. I needed someone to tell me the honest truth: you’re not the writer that you think you are—not yet. I needed to be shown the areas that needed improvement. 

Some writers were nice about it, and gave me constructive criticism. Others were more unpleasant. Of course, the former is so much more delightful to deal with, and leaves you feeling good about yourself. You need those types of people to help you maintain your confidence. But the latter was just as necessary for me. Without hearing the harsh reality I’m not sure if I would’ve been able to get to where I needed to get to. I needed to be broken down and reminded to keep my ego in check. I needed to know how I matched up with other writers. I needed to understand that I wasn’t anywhere close to where I thought I was, but I could get there in time if I put in the effort. I had to rediscover my humility. Without it I was nothing and no one—just a pretender.

Just someone who thought he knew how to write, but didn’t really. They say, “it takes a million words before you’re able to write something of good quality.” Early on, I would’ve scoffed at that notion, but I don’t think they’re wrong. I’ve been writing almost every day since 2020, but I consider 2023 my year one. This was the year I came into my own. The year I discovered my writing style. The year I finally knew what my story was about. The year I finally understood who my characters are. The year I found out where I stack up. The year I found a mutually beneficial writing partnership (which will soon grow into a circle of three). I’ve called myself a writer before, and I’ve felt like a writer before, but now I can say with certainty that I am a writer. I can finally put my money where my mouth is, because only now am I able to write well. I’ve learned how to write, so I just need to keep on keeping on. The only way I fail is if I stop.