“ She’s constantly comparing me to legends in my mind, which intimidates me from getting any work done.” THIS. Is what paralyzes me, so much so that I can’t even think straight, let alone write anything. Like I was some Hemingway or Rowling in the making and everything (or anything, in my case) I wrote should dazzle people. It stresses me out in devious ways, and I’ve understood the only escape is to let the muscles relax, take it as play than a cause for a life sentence to be handed down to us if I didn’t make it “perfect”. Naturally, I have been terrified for most part of my life, thinking people would judge me if my writing wasn’t “up to the mark”; it’s a different issue I didn’t even have an idea of what that mark was.
Over time I realized — I was my harshest critic, I judged myself more than anybody else could. And so I have begun to take small, bite-sized steps in this direction. I have figured out if writing isn’t giving you joy, then you really aren’t doing it for yourself. You are probably doing it to gain approval from people, because then the only scale you measure yourself against is “perfection” and untainted fabulousness!
Now I don’t care anymore. I write because otherwise I’d die with a 10 kg weight on my chest :p…thank you for this wonderful piece. Relieved to know I ain’t the only one who’s been stuck in time this way.
So, did you finally manage to kill your inner perfectionist? :)
