WP4: Hitting Writer’s Rock Bottom
This semester, my self confidence as a writer completed crumbled — but in a good way. I’ve always thought writing was my strong suit. In high school I would be able to write a five page paper in a couple hours, turn it in, and get an easy A. I excelled on the writing and grammar portions of the SAT. Writing book reports, analytical essays, or even essays on AP tests were simple for me. Writing was a skill I never had to give much thought to. However upon starting this writing class, something happened for the first time in my writing career: I struggled.
In my WP1, I approached it like I did a high school essay (looking back, a rookie mistake). I looked at the prompt briefly, wrote my draft a few days before the deadline, read it over once the night before, and turned it in. I knew deep down that it wasn’t my best or most introspective piece of writing, but I thought it would give me the easy A. Boy was I wrong.
The critiques I received for this paper were unlike critiques I had received in the past. I was told to “dig deeper” and “focus on the impact” of my writing. To be completely honest, I had no idea what the fuck any of that meant. I was confused and crushed that my writing wasn’t as incredible as I had believed it to be. I was nothing short of devastated that my perception of what was amazing was barely enough for an okay grade. Being so comfortable in my bubble of surface level self reflection and faux deepness done in previous years, I truly did not know where to start when it came to opening up further in my writing. Not to mention, the thought of opening up to my professor, my peers, and the whole internet made me want to crawl up into a hole and disappear.
What scared me most about being vulnerable were the possibilities of everyone learning and changing their opinion of me, including myself. Everybody has multiple levels of complexity to their being and identity that are daunting to explore and expose. What if you find something about yourself you hate? What if you find your Achilles’ heel? What if you analyze yourself to the point where everyone else realizes you are so painfully average? In the past, the fear of these questions and perceptions of myself encouraged me to take the easy way out: exploring my identity in a shallow manner that could come across as meaningful. I would tell an old story, twist it to seem so incredibly life changing, and claim I was a changed woman because of this singular, monumental event. I had the attitude of “fake it ‘till you make it,” and it worked pretty damn well. During this course, I had to try something new and gradually push myself further and further into uncharted territory.
The first step is always the hardest and in my case, the first step came after four posts and an entire writing project. In my fifth post “Contagious Confidence,” I attempted to truthfully open up about a part of myself that had never been expressed on paper before, my sexuality. Although I’ve been comfortable with my identity as a bisexual woman for years, it was never something I’d written about or grappled with in writing. Discussing this part of my identity was new for me, and still feels a little scary. I still wonder, who’s gonna read this? Who’s gonna know? Who’s gonna care? Opening up about my insecurities relating to a crucial part of my identity was daunting, and although I found it physically difficult to push the “publish” button for that post, I realized afterwards that it was worth it. Being vulnerable about this part of myself for five sentences already made a difference. On this post I received great feedback and commentary, that made me feel like the writer I used to think I was. Being honest in my writing felt relieving, and gave me the confidence to try to dig down even more. I still had and have a long ways to go, but taking that step into the unknown was noticed and rewarded.
I succeeded in being open and authentically deep in my WP2, but the path to success is not linear, and again in my WP3 struggled to find the impact of my words. I had again gotten too comfortable with a certain level of vulnerability, and needed to push myself. My inner perfectionist and former high school writing self wanted that better grade, and to do that I knew I needed to continue to put myself out there. During my revision process, I reread my first and third writing projects with a fresh eye, and immediately saw faults and flaws in my writing. Through the discussions held as a class and the sources we analyzed this semester, I was able to recognize truly impactful and meaningful writing. I was also able to recognize my writing was NOT that. Being able to revise these projects gave me an opportunity to apply what I had been learning and practicing to my past writing. I gave it my all and attempted to be more open in writing than ever before, and exposed some negative parts of identity that I didn’t exactly like in order to be authentic when talking about my intellectual identity. I wanted to feel that same feeling of relief and confidence I felt from my fifth post.
Writing this semester has shown me how to find my voice, and intertwine that voice and personal experiences with academic writing. I have learned how to be vulnerable and brutally honest in an academic space. The projects from this course have taught me how to convey my personality within my writing, and take ownership of my writing voice in professional and unprofessional settings. The projects also taught me about myself, and how I usually opt for the easy way out. This realization was painful, but forced me to start from rock bottom and crawl my way back up. I was encouraged to “dig deeper” in my writing, which has made me a more vulnerable and reflective person in many other aspects of my life. When demonstrating openness in writing constantly, it becomes easier to be open in relationships with family and friends about my wellbeing, my worries, and my hopes for the future. Instead of telling everyone “I’m doing good!” or “School is fine,” I am no longer afraid to get into the nitty gritty details of why life isn’t so great at the moment, or why I am struggling with schoolwork. Being vulnerable in this class also made me more vulnerable in other classes, such as in seminars or discussions when talking about personal opinions. I wasn’t intimidated by professors or peers, and found myself citing personal experiences when stating opinions — experiences I would have never been able to comfortably talk about in a classroom setting before.
The writing in this course has forced me to get comfortable with sharing, and put myself out there. I’ve discovered that the vulnerability in writing is what makes your piece yours. Exploring my intellectual identity in this class was something only the most authentic and genuine version of myself could do. Finding this genuine and authentic self wasn’t easy, after years of ignoring it and masking it with exaggerated and idealized stories. I had been trained to believe that my writing had to be perfect and seamless, but this idea was pushed when it came to being brutally honest about your identity and growth — because no one has a flawless story of their intellectual development. Anyone can write a persuasive essay about a political speech from the 1800s, or write a formal essay analyzing the themes and motifs of The Great Gatsby or some other revered English class novel. No one can write your story exactly like you do, and no one can write about you quite like you do.
