So, I’ve had this cute little space to maunder on about every teeny tiny thing for quite some time now (two days seems like forever) and while I have come and gone as I pleased writting a handful of jumbled, unfinished rants, if you’d like to refer to them as such, they’ve only made it as far as the drafts box. My writer’s anxiety and the constant urge to critique and edit my work has kept me from clicking on that intimidatingly blue ‘publish’ button that seems to taunt me every time I muster up the courage to make a blog post. For the life of me I could not understand why I was unable to thoroughly express myself in this void. I’ve seen plenty of people do it and I’ve genuinely grown to love writing, talks with my former English professors about my work is what’s driving me towards the decision to minor in English in the near future, but how could I willingly give an acquainted stranger my work to critique and internally discuss with themselves and not be able to share to a community full of passionate writers? Of course, the obvious ‘I’m only doing this because I need to pass this English class’ settled the debate with my inner self almost immediately, it still didn’t explain why I enjoyed doing it.
How do I say this without seeming like I’m taking sides? Am I being too opinionated? What if someone disagrees with me? Am I using this word correctly? What am I even trying to say right now, this makes no sense– endless back spacing is what most of my time spent here looked like along with hours of internal conflict which would result in yet another draft post of gibberish.
Then I realized, I was never truly confident in my work. Sure, I’d let a professor read my thoughts and viewpoints but the thought of allowing someone I’ve never met read my take on things feels like that episode of SpongeBob where smaller versions of himself are running around frantically in his head trying to remember what his name was. I don’t do much so I never really saw my life to be one of the most interesting things to want to write about and I’m not exactly the type to put my two cents into every jar that says “tips” so why did I decide to create a blog where I’d essentially be able to express myself freely and who in the world would want to read what I had to say anyway? Seriously, I can barely get people to listen to what I have to say without them cutting me off two minutes into our conversation. Then it hit me again, people don’t create blogs, have journals, or write poetry because they want others to hear what they have to say, they do it because it’s a form of expression for them, writing is their outlet and who they choose to share it with is completely up to them. This wide open space is my outlet, it allows my thoughts and I to tango as wildly as we please, even though these thoughts of mine have two left feet and aren’t too sure where one idea ends and the other begins, they’re mine and that’s something I should be proud of. Something I’m learning to be proud of.