Day 1
I am not a writer.
I came to learn this truth after the boat had sailed. I hadn’t even reached the middle of the pond when I was already overwhelmed with distress and horror. No one taught my naive old self that learning how to write rather than picking up tips to craft a SEO-friendly blog are completely different concerns. Learning new words, forming sentences, writing clearly can be developed, and you don’t need to know it all beforehand. Especially you, who never dipped her toe in the ocean of words before.
Instead, all they did was market themselves with cheap and fake products. It contained everything except what was meaningful. “This 30-day course is all you need to master writing and earn in a million dollars”, they claimed, and I foolishly fell for it. I even believed it after testing the waters, ruthlessly swallowing their empty promises and indulging in nonexistent learning.
Of course, meaningless knowledge won’t teach you how to write. And it didn’t. But seeing my peers climbing ladders of success, I believed I am the defective piece. What I failed to see was their years of experience in writing. This ignorance let my demon wins against me.
You are too stupid if you can’t write even after buying that expensive course.
It made me involuntarily believe that writing was something you are born with. Writing is supposed to be the most natural thing. If one isn’t able to perform such a tedious task, they become a laughingstock. I was too prideful to let anyone laugh at me, to see me in a vulnerable state — the state of not being god-gifted at writing, the state of not being perfect. Then I stumbled upon another idiocy remark, “fake it till you make it”. Ironically, it worked. I fooled the world into believing that I could write. That I am better than other applicants for this internship, later for the job. I fooled them for long enough, then the time of getting exposed for my horrendous act soon followed it.
I crumbled, felt the weight of my deceit, and the pressure of my own expectations, but did not let anyone, or I know of such a matter. I buried myself in distractions, avoiding the truth and, in doing so, running away from reality and wasting valuable time.
Then, whether suddenly or gradually, I mustered the courage to face myself in the mirror. To acknowledge, to forgive, and to try once more — leading me to this moment. This piece of writing marks the first time I’ve truly tapped into my own emotions and thought process, expressing them deeply and clearly on my own. I believe my boat is no longer afraid to sail through the pond or even dream of the ocean.
Thanks for reading. Truly.
