I have a severe lack of confidence when it comes to writing. I start with a blast of energy and excitement, which quickly turns into a dark hatred for my lack of skill. I used to write all the time: poems and short stories were written on random notebook pages. When I graduated high school, I quickly realized my only motivation to write was making sure I passed the class.
“You never lose it. It just waits for you to be ready to unleash the things you don’t say.” My friend told me this last night. I thought I was ready, but I guess a piece of me—a rather large piece of me—is worried that once I start trying, I’ll realize I was never really good at writing to begin with. Kind of like American Idol: after being told by friends and family that you’re the best, you get on the stage and sing your heart out in front of millions of people only to be told you completely suck huge donkey nuts. I want to write. I think about it everyday, but I’m holding myself back. I don’t know how to push forward. It’s like the words leave my head as soon as I start typing.
I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep pushing. I need to make something happen or else I’ll regret it.