“Fears are educated into us, and can, if we wish, be educated out.”

Every morning I try and read a few random quotes here and there. Mostly to inspire me, but sometimes just to write a nice quote in my agenda. I read the quote about by Karl Augustus Menninger this morning and it sparked today’s blog post.

When it comes to my novel I find myself sitting at my computer and staring at the screen aimlessly. Hesitating. Unable to type a single word. And this happens more than I would like to admit. I actually did this last night for a bit, and got discouraged and had to step away. It’s not for a lack of direction or ideas or words. I have those by the thousands just waiting to course through my fingertips and onto the screen.

I’m afraid.

I can often manage to put it past me and write through the fear, but it’s always there. Looking over my shoulder, added in a random gasp or a laugh or even a ‘should you really do that?’ kind of talk. I’ve always had ‘fear’ in me. It could be from the dark, things under my bed, hearing a noise somewhere in the house at 3 AM… But when it comes to my writing, my fear arrived during a very specific time of my life. It was a time in my life when I stopped putting myself first, and started living for someone else. It was when I was 19 and I fell in love for the first time.

Up until I had met said boy, I spent a good deal of my free time (and during class, and when i should be doing homework etc…) writing. I wrote stories where boy met girl, boy loved girl, bad things happened, but in the end they got back together and lived happily ever after. Then I met the boy who made me swoon with his words. No one had ever written for me before, and in the blink of an eye I was head over heels and constantly waiting for his next lines.

He was a poet and his words consumed me and mine got pushed aside. His words always seemed “better” and “more real” than mine. How could I compare my silly words about fake love to his about real love? He was an artist who hung out with other artists, and I felt inferior in that sense. I did not go to school for my craft, while they all did. On top of that they were theater actors, and their passion for what they did made me feel even less confident in my ways. My writing was not at “the same level”. I was so overcome with my enamor of his words, that mine became ‘pathetic’ and ‘childish’ in my eyes. Then they got pushed into a tiny box in my soul. Then this box got covered in cobwebs and dust and was forgotten about.

And then my heart was broken.

And my words were angry at me and didn’t want to come back. So I spent over a year and a half being a person I did not like because the one way I knew how to express myself was the one way I couldn’t seem to use. I knew that girl I was becoming wasn’t heading down the path I wanted, but I couldn’t stop her. I was numb in a sense. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt me like it did, and I no longer wanted to feel it. And since I mostly wrote about young love and the happiness it brought, I no longer thought my writing could reflect what I once had. So I ignored my words and they ignored me and kept that little box closed.

But then something happened. I met my Mr. and things changed for me. And although it took me a while to realize it, he was just what I needed to bring myself back from the dark places I let myself fall into. Our story has its ups and downs, but he is my Mr. for a reason. He encourages me and supports me, but more so my words. He IS, without a shadow of a doubt, my forever. We created something more amazing than anything in the world, our little Banana Pants. And in having her I was instilled a new outlook on life. And a renewed sense of belief in myself has happened. And my words came back to me…

Yet sometimes I still have fear. Which I know is normal, but still frustrating for me.

Now wait, I’m not trying to make excuses (though in a sense I guess I am…) for my difficulty writing. What I’m trying to do with all this is figure out what makes me tick (and what doesn’t) as a writer. I embarked on this journey seriously a few months back, and I’m chronicling it all – for me and for you the readers. I can talk this all out with people, I don’t need to write it here on my blog for everyone to see. But when I write about my loves and gripes I gain a better understanding of myself as a writer. And maybe my words will be read by one of you and you’ll relate. Knowing that you’re not alone and that there are other people out there going through what you  are makes the days a bit easier.

This blog is my journey, and with it I need to learn. About myself and about my writing. So I don’t want to have any topics off limits because this is a “public forum”. If you’re here and reading this, you have made a conscious decision to get on board and ride it out with me. And I know I have said this before, but I can’t say it enough. I appreciate all the wonderful words and support I’ve received from you lovelies. You all give me the inspiration to keep on moving and going forward. Here’s to the next part of my adventure!

So on that note, have a wonderful Wednesday everyone!

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2 thoughts on ““Fears are educated into us, and can, if we wish, be educated out.”

  1. You are an amazing blogger! I love the way you write, and everything. And it seems that I’m not the only who thinks this way, you have lots of awards. I just started blogging, but I really want my blog to be as great as yours.
    Thanks for writing! 🙂

  2. Hey gorgeous. You made me think of when “no fear” t-shirts were in style (like 17 years ago!), I think I still have one that was a gift from one of my first “boyfriends” (clue: initials CC and air sucking) if you want to borrow and wear it as encouragement 🙂 After all, nothing to me is scarier than high school, and we’ve come so far since then. Love u. xo

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