You close your laptop with a groan, fingers rubbing your temples, exasperated. We all get it – the middle of writing a sentence or a scene that just isn’t working. Then the dread sinks in. Am I cut out for this? Do I even have the skills or even a story line that’ll pan out? And if you’re like me, one of two things will happen. 1) we take a break and then come back to the page with discipline and grit, or 2) wallow and avoid writing for a couple days, doing absolutely anything else, even laundry, to avoid our words.
Imposter syndrome is the literal worst. It steals our joy and creative flow and makes us feel like a hot dumpster fire. I dealt with this a lot yesterday, and my reaction was more in the camp of number two. But I honestly think both options are part of the writing process for me. Not every day can be a glorious day of shining golden ideas for dialogue and transitions, and not everyday is a suckish, avoidance, bingeing Vampire Diaries day either.
I truly think imposter syndrome comes from comparison. Too many hours scrolling Instagram seeing how many hours a day people without kids, or those that have kids that are older, are able to write or how much traction their page gets. Unable to see the real life crud it takes for that person to get their story down. Or it’s thinking you’ll never be enough or be a NYT best seller, so it’s not even worth it to try. Instagram has given me some beautiful writing friends and a community of women that build each other up in their craft and personal lives. But too much time scrolling for me makes me compare and degrade myself. And my writing and anxiety suffers for it.
The next few days will be slower writing days as I recover from gallbladder removal surgery, but I plan to be kinder to myself and trust the process I’m in. I’m not sure how long this first draft will take me. But I’m writing a first draft, and I’ve never been able to say that before, nor have I taken myself seriously enough to go for it fully. I’m proud of myself for committing and sticking it out, working to make my dreams happen.
No story is like yours or mine, because no one’s life or brain or heart are like yours or mine. Our stories deserved to be honored by being placed on the page and given a fighting chance.
look out mr imposter syndrome, you won’t get the last hurrah today.
