There is nothing worse than a self-doubter.

You are the kind of people that rule yourselves out before anyone else can. You determine that everything you do is destined to fail; not because you are not smart or talented enough. Not because you have the lowest self-esteem, and definitely not because you are negative. It’s because you don’t understand why, in the vast earth we inhabit, with 7 billion people, it should be you.

You lie awake at night, plagued by the need to create, then once you create, you save it onto your hard drive and promise to one day call it up and click Share. And then one day, four years later, you open it up again, read it, update it, and promise yourself that after you proof-read it one more time, you will send it. Then another year later, your hard drive crashes, and you bemoan the fates for the work lost, vow to start again, and then do everything but start over. You find some of the work in your sent items/inbox, and are just a little miffed because now you have no excuse, but you are also grateful because you now have work to show from when you were still attempting to perfect your craft. But mainly the miffed thing.

Then you start creating again; waking up in the middle of the night, haunted by what is going on in the world, in your house, in your life. You note your views on race, the economy, politics, people, the state of the arts, your life, your hopes, fears, aspirations. Dreams.

And you save them to your hard drive again.

Because you know that there may be an audience interested in your view. You see it in spurts in social media; you hear it on TV; radio hosts spend entire days talking about it.

You understand that once your view is out there, it stands to be dissected, and you know that the world is fluid, with the only constant being change. What if you feel differently about something you wrote in a year’s time? What if, God forbid, by then you have had life experiences that lend credence to your disagreeing with your view at a certain point in time?

What if you’re not as good as good should be?

Who are you, to be great in the same world that has birthed Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, Oscar Wilde, Harper Lee, Wally Lamb, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, J.K. Rowling. Francine Rivers. Francine Pascal.

Roald Dahl.

Chinua Achebe.

Mariam Ba.

Bessie Head.

How can you, a demographic with so much to say, give and share, offer something that is less than impactful? Less than brilliant?

What if you’re recognised for the fraud you are? A normal human being who simply notes your thoughts and shares them with the world? What if they realise that you’re just a nobody, trying to tell everybody, about something informed by your own awareness.

Self-doubt gnaws at you like an insistent itch; calls out the fraud in you, making you believe in boogeymen, mental self-flagellation, and becomes the monkey on your back.

Until that point where you crack, and you can no longer keep the monkey fed. You need to release these thoughts that fill your head. You need to know that you’re not crazy; that there are those who agree with your viewpoint, and those who don’t. That there are some who agree in part, some who really don’t care, and some who are intimidated by your views, so they throw red herrings aimed at feeding your self-doubt.

But you release your creations out into the stratosphere. Because you must.

And pray that the more you release, the less you will doubt yourself.

Because it is less about them; and more about you.

At least that has been my experience.

***Disclaimer: These pics do not belong to the author***