
The Fear that Kills Creativity
Writer’s Block Wasn’t the Real Problem
I’ve had writer’s block quite badly over the last long while.
Quite ironic, considering my post awhile back, huh? This block didn’t just affect my creative writing, however.
Anytime I would sit down to write, outline, or research anything I became immobilized by a striking sense of, “I have no idea what I’m doing here.”
It’s truly a horrible feeling. Funny enough, though, it’s taught me something important about creativity. Especially when it comes to what kills it.
Massive spoiler alert, but it wasn’t writer’s block that killed my drive to write.
The Story: My Creative Journey
Let’s take a trip back a few years, to January of 2014. That’s when I started blogging. (I think)
I had a simple WordPress setup, with a basic theme, and a really cringy pseudonym that I’m not going to mention, for the sake of my own dignity.
I mainly wrote impromptu about anything that interested me, on my 2011 MacBook Pro I think was a birthday gift. No outlines, no internal or external links, or social media promotion.
Terrible habits, I know.
Despite my inexperience and probably poor prose, it was a good time.
I learned a whole lot about writing as a process: How an outline can actually help you write and organize, the need for and basics of research, so on and so forth.
All-in-all, I was loving life and felt free to write what I wanted.
Not to toot my own horn, but people around me even started to notice a bit of my work and what I was doing.
They would give feedback, thoughts, constructive criticism, and most kept telling me how much they enjoyed my writing. (As much as you can enjoy the shallow idea explorations of a 16-year-old homeschooler.)
That’s where the real problem began.
Sure, I had writers block during this time. But like I said earlier, writer’s block has never been the problem.
It started small.
Every time someone would compliment my writing or ideas, I would brush it off with phrases like:
- “Well, I just noticed {x} and wrote about it”
- “Actually, I think anyone could’ve written that post if they had sat down and thought about it”
- “It was a pretty basic post, really”
Stuff that wasn’t entirely untrue, but served to make me seem like a bit less important during the whole process.
Now, humility in of itself isn’t bad.
But left unwatched it can quickly spiral into self-deprecation, where you genuinely believe that you don’t matter in your content at all.
If you don’t notice that pattern of thought quickly enough, either, it can quickly spiral into the all too well known, but hard to see in the mirror, Impostor Syndrome.
Impostor Syndrome is, in oversimplified terms, where you begin to see yourself as some sort of actor, fraud, fake, or whatever else you want to call yourself.
All you think, not know, is that you don’t deserve to be where you are.
Soon, this fear that everyone is going to catch on to that quickly spirals in to a form of creative paranoia.
Or at least it did for me.
I went all the way through this process in a progressively quickening pace.
I put my blog up, then tore it down. I changed the backed software, the design, the writing style, etc.
I would post regularly for a while, then stopped for longer. I had tried everything, and ended up doing nothing at all.
All-in-all, I found I could only protect what I loved doing by not doing it at all.
Impostor Syndrome is a sneaky thing to make you think that way. In reality, though, it is the fear that kills all creative effort.
When we see support for our ever-increasing lack of creative endeavors, which is really caused by our lack of creating, it only serves to reinforce and feed the fear that we were trying to absolve.
Ryan Holiday talks a lot about Ego.
He even wrote a whole book about it. (Highly recommended read, by the way)
What I’ve come to realize recently is that Impostor Syndrome is just another form of a Ego.
Albeit in a pessimistic sense. We still think it’s all about us, after all. In this case, however, we tend to diagnose our creative problem as ourselves. Then we blame ourselves for everything that can and will go wrong for creatives.
We can often believe that we are the sole thing that can ruin our dreams. I know I do it at times.
I tend to be afraid that people will figure out that I’m not some sort of sage, with all the answers to every questions on everything I’m interested in. (Not that anyone actually thinks that, in all probability).
What if, somehow, people will want to rip in to all the possible ways I can misword things? Or, they might criticize my metaphors as poor example, or even offensive!
Impostor Syndrome has for a long time made me believe I will be the biggest flaw in my work. It has stopped me writing about what I love for so long.
But it doesn’t have to be this way.
Humble Ownership, or How to Reclaim Your Work from Impostor Syndrome.
I said before that humility isn’t a bad thing.
But you know what else isn’t bad? Accepting ownership of your work.
So with this in mind, I’ve been putting in some steps to humbly claim back my work from the claws of Impostor Syndrome. They might not work for everyone, but they work for me.
Hopefully they can help you in some form, too.
№ 1: Frame Your Viewpoint.
Your life has been a vastly different process from that of anyone else.
Sure, maybe on an individual, day-to-day basis your life hasn’t been all that different to everyone else. But take a step back for a minute.
You’re collective experience of all the events that have taken place in your life, both public and private, is unique to your lifetime alone.
In this, you have an original viewpoint of your current position in the world.
The words you’ll use, the people or pop culture you’ll reference, the way in which you’ll present your ideas and thought, all of these stem out of the view you have no one else possibly can.
Each piece of work, whether that’s unique or routine, can be seen as putting a frame on the picture of this snapshot of your life.
You have a one-of-a-kind image that no price can buy.
Sure, there may be other images of the same scenery, but no one has the angle you have. Even if it isn’t always a good picture, it’s still like no other. Learn to love it, and frame it well.
№ 2: Cheer on Other Creators
Here on Medium there’s an amazing feature called clapping. It’s a really great way to show how much you support and enjoy other writers’ work.
Other platforms have similar features of affirmation, too.
You can like, or subscribe, follow, or favorite. There’s so many ways to show other people that their creative work is worth it.
It can also help you see how everyone needs support and encouragement, too.
Notice a typo? Like and share the post. Think something could’ve been worded or explained better? Give extra claps. Think that shared post had an uninteresting image? Add it to your favorites anyway.
Everyone needs to improve, and encouraging other creators can help them keep going and hone in on their weak points.
It could certainly open up lots of doors for future collaboration, too, and they always say what comes around goes around.
Another way to show this sort of support to other creators, even the big ones, is to give credit where it’s due.
Mention them by name, link to their website or blog, or if you can get permission user some of their shots as your thumbnail etc.
All of this, and more, will show them how noticeable they and their work is! These simple things will keep the creative space developing and interesting.
№ 3: Implement Incremental Improvements
Like I said, everyone needs to improve. (You and I included)
However, improvement doesn’t always have to be some big “Eureka!” moment. Rather, take small steps.
Listen to some criticism, open yourself up to feedback and thoughts, and slowly improve on what needs worked on.
At the end of the day, we’re all constant students of our craft, and everyone else is a teacher in some form or another.
Small, incremental steps, are the stepping stones to mastery.
Don’t skip a single one either, lest you fall into murky waters and be set back a few steps.
Impostor Syndrome doesn’t disappear all at once.
But there are many methods we can use to escape the cage it can put on your mind.
My process might look similar to yours, or quite different. One thing we all need to keep doing, however, is keep creating.
Keep messing up or winning big, and take humble ownership of the work you produce while you journey to where you’re meant to be.
