A few weeks ago I reached post #100—a momentous milestone (yay me). So what did I do to celebrate? Nothing, nothing at all. Because it really doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t matter if I write 100 posts or 200, I’ll never be satisfied. I don’t do this for the milestones or the accolades. I do this because this is who I am. I’m a writer and a mental health advocate, so this is what I do. I write, and write, and I write some more. 

Reaching an arbitrary number doesn’t change anything for me. I don’t write a post, call it good, and that’s it I’m done. I still need to keep grinding and chipping away. So I finish one thing then I start another. That’s just the way it goes. My hard work will pay off but not if I don’t put in the time. My effort matters more than anything else. It doesn’t matter if my results are good or bad if my effort is shoddy. I won’t continue on an upwards trajectory if I don’t put in the work. I won’t learn or improve if I don’t try to the best of my ability. I won’t get to where I want to go if I don’t do my part.

Just because I create my own schedule doesn’t mean I don’t still have a job to do. After all, this is the life I chose. No one told me to leave the workforce. No one forced me to try my hand at writing. This is what I wanted, and as such I have my responsibilities—if I don’t owe it to my audience, I owe it to myself at the very least. There are certain things I knew that I was signing up for, but there are many other things that I’m learning along the way. Such is the way of life. You can’t prepare for every outcome. Life has its surprises and its curveballs. The best that I can do is learn and adapt and keep an open mind.

What else is there? I can’t keep trying things the same way if they don’t work. I learned that the hard way when I was younger. But I’m not the same stubborn youngster that I used to be. I’ve changed, and I approach things differently now. Instead of running or hiding from my adversity, I face it head on now, and keep my mind open to possible outcomes. I know what I have to do—put my head down and grind. I can either work hard and power through my hardships, or I can make excuses. I know which one I’m choosing. There’s no other way for me to get better at my craft than to take the good with the bad. 

As I’ve said before, after I quit my job at the beginning of 2022, I spent more than half a year working on my novel in isolation. While I did improve as a writer, there was a point of diminishing returns that no one had warned me about. I stalled out because there were no other eyes on my writing. There was no external force to push me to a higher level, so my growth was limited. I would only improve up til a certain extent. Past that, I was just wasting my time, because my writing was never going to get to where I needed it to be—although, I didn’t know it at the time. I was equal parts naive and equal parts delusional. But at least I had the wherewithal to realize that something wasn’t working.

A younger version of me would’ve given up. Taken it as evidence that the universe didn’t want me as a writer. He would’ve convinced himself that he was a failure and that writing wasn’t for him. He would’ve shelled up and wallowed in his depression. Seen his life spiraling out and allowed it to continue. Done absolutely nothing to get to where he wanted to go. He wouldn’t have pushed through. But push through I did, and I’m much happier for it. I’m not the same kid who used to surrender at the first sign of adversity. “Okay Doubt. You win.” I’m not the same kid who used to take criticism as an indication that I wasn’t built for this. Outside noise doesn’t matter. If you’re passionate about something you will take the steps necessary to excel. 

Unfortunately, that’s something I have to remind myself time and time again. For creatives sometimes we get so caught up in each individual work that we lose sight of the bigger picture. We’re trying to build our legacy so we put our heads down and grind. We go through our process over and over and over again, trying to build something that we’re proud of. It doesn’t always make sense looking from the outside in. Sometimes it doesn’t look like we’re making any progress. Sometimes it seems like we’re just putzing around and wasting time. But we are working, same as any other nine to five. The only difference is that we don’t have immediate results that we can show the world. 

I admit that this could be hard for someone who’s used to seeing instantaneous, tangible results. “Why hasn’t he written the book yet?” “Where’s the goddamn album?” “Why haven’t you sold any paintings?” Be patient and let us work. Admittedly, all creatives are perfectionists to varying degrees. We don’t like to put out work that we’re not happy with. That’s just not in our DNA—at least not from the start. Our art takes time. It takes tinkering and editing. Adding and subtracting. Shaping and molding. Eventually something will come of it, but the timing isn’t for you to decide. Let the artist continue to work, free of distractions.

Early on, it was easy for me to filter out the noise. I had a vision for what I wanted to do, and I kept toiling away towards it. I was seeing growth each week, knowing that I was getting better. Of course, it helped that I was still employed when I first started writing. People generally left me alone and allowed me to pursue my hobby in peace. Unfortunately, once I quit was when attitudes started to shift. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but it became more evident as time passed. It also didn’t help that for a while I felt like my skill level had plateaued. I try my best not to listen to the criticism, good or bad, as both only serve as a distraction to me. But it’s easier said than done. I’m only human, so sometimes I forget that I’m trying to cancel out the noise. It shouldn’t catch me by surprise, since I’m supposed to know better, but occasionally it does. And that’s the worst thing for me.

Unfortunately, that’s what happened to me the other week. I got sucked back in and let down my guard. I let a cold reaction get to me. I let the words distract me, which took me away from my work. Which caused me to lose focus. Which filled me with doubt and caused my confidence level to waver. I wasn’t supposed to let that happen. I know better. Aside from this space, I don’t generally talk about my writing much with other people. It’s not relevant unless someone brings it up or asks me what I’m doing. Otherwise I have no reason to talk about it. And even then I don’t like to go too much in depth—I think it’s best to temper expectations. I know where I stand as a writer, and I don’t need any validation. But I also don’t want to be put on a pedestal. My novel will be done when it’s done. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it, but no skin off my back if you don’t. 

I know what I’m capable of. I know where my ability lies. I know what I’m working towards. I just have to remind myself of it sometimes. And I have to learn and relearn to tune out the noise. I need to maintain my focus regardless of what anyone else says. Outside opinion, good or bad, doesn’t mean anything to me. The praise or the hate might motivate me to write more, but it has no effect on whether or not I write better. The only way for me to get better is to keep on writing. So in order to do that, I need to put my head down, and block out the world. 

It doesn’t matter if you’re friends or family. It doesn’t matter if you’re offering your love or support. What you think we may need might not be what we need. Let the artist work and don’t try to interfere. The timeline isn’t for you to decide. And your opinion has no bearing on the outcome. The process most likely won’t make sense to you, but every artist has one for a reason. This is how we work best. This is how we create the best product that we can. This is how we make something that we’re proud of. If we maintain our focus and put in the time, we will create something beautiful. We just need to filter out the noise.