Writer’s Remorse

Despite my fear of offending, I will continue to write.

When I was a senior in high school, I was tasked with writing an opinion essay for my English class. I decided to write about the terrible rules and functionality of our school library (riveting, I know), and made sure to back up my opinions with cold, hard facts. (You couldn’t even check books out overnight—preposterous!) My English teacher loved the piece and encouraged me to submit it to the school newspaper. I did so, and a week later, I received a scathing letter from the head librarian, refuting every single point from my op-ed article.

I was absolutely mortified. As a high-achieving student well-liked my most of her teachers, I felt horribly ashamed. I wasn’t trying to create any problems. I was just complaining a little bit. Plus, my teacher said I should publish it! My shame soon turned to defiance. I had every right to share my opinion. I spent time choosing my words wisely and backing up my claims. And now she was trying to prove me wrong and make me feel bad? Well, screw her.

Then the guilt came again.

I didn’t know it at the time, but this silent, personal pendulum of emotions would stalk me throughout my time as a journalism student and continue to breathe down my neck during my professional writing career. Putting my opinions in writing is easy. Sharing those opinions with others, taking my hands off the wheel and letting readers slowly digest my opinions word for word, eliciting a reaction without the in-person ability to correct myself or soften the blow—these things remain terrifying for me.

Fearing the worst

For most of my life, I have dreaded offending people. One errant comment to a middle school classmate would give me stomachaches for weeks. If a teacher scolded me, I’d cry myself to sleep that night. Even in current events class, where the point is to debate, I would leave every class with an uneasy feeling. I have always loved debates and I have always had opinions, but the minute I make them public, I am wracked with worry. Although I’ve gotten more confident in speaking my opinions, I have yet to reach that level as a writer. My fear of backlash has gotten so bad at times that I have considered stopping all forms of opinion writing, from tweets to blog posts. The anxiety can be that consuming.

But it doesn’t take long before I realize that I can’t quit. For one, my first reaction when I develop this anxiety is to write about it (hence this post). If I write about my fear, I won’t run from it. Writing is my escape. Writing lifts the fog from my jumbled thoughts. Writing can sometimes be the problem, but writing is always the solution.

And second, I truly believe in the immense value of sharing opinions, arousing debate, generating discussion, expanding ideas, keeping alive the often-referenced freedom of speech this country was founded upon. If opinions are explained and not written in a malicious way, then they are completely acceptable, even necessary. Closing our eyes, plugging our ears and singing “la la la” doesn’t make issues disappear. Nor does it change the world or make it a more fascinating place. Debates can be uncomfortable, but discomfort is a good thing. Healthy debate of any kind enriches our lives and expands our minds. We should all engage in this process as fully as we can.

How to move past the fear

So, it’s decided…I will continue to write my opinions. I will continue to learn. I will continue to adjust and broaden my viewpoints. In order to stop future post-publishing anxiety attacks, I have created the following manifesto:

1. I am more than one blog post or singular opinion. I experience a wide range of thoughts and emotions, and sometimes even have conflicting opinions on the same subject. (For example, I wrote a blog on the annoying things brides-to-be-say. Meanwhile, I think weddings are beautiful and wonderful and couldn’t be more excited to be getting married myself.) A blog post may be black and white, but I am not.
2. When I post something on a public forum, I need to expect detraction, defensiveness, rebuttal and negativity. If I’m willing to dish it out, I need to be able to take it. 100%.
3. Provided I’ve been respectful, accurate and innocuous in my intent, I will not apologize for my opinions. I will never write an article directed at someone I know or to deliberately offend a person or group. If someone chooses to take it personally, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s time to suck it up and own my words.
4. I will ignore trolls and commentary that has no purpose but to hurt me or someone else. Comments, however feisty, should be respectful, relevant and advance the overall conversation.
5. I will listen to others’ respectful comments. Just as I have the right to write, so do they. A differing opinion can at best change my perspective and at worst sting a little. I can handle that.

Maybe I’m too sensitive and one of few writers who grapples with this. But perhaps there is someone out there with ideas and opinions far more profound and valuable than mine for whom this post will resonate and who will finally be able to remove the shackles and contribute his or her important voice to the world without fear of rejection.