• Emily Formea

Writing My Blog Terrifies Me


Writing my blog terrifies me.


It terrifies me every single time I sit down at my computer.

I worry I am going to be judged.

I judge myself.

I think who am I to be giving advice. Look at me.

I think who am I to be portraying myself in this high-horse, know it all manner.

I worry it will offend people.

I worry my writing will upset people.

Heck, I worry if my writing will worry people!


I wonder if people will think I am fake.

I wonder if people shake their heads at me when I make a new post.

I worry if people get annoyed by my Instagram stories.

I never want to be seen as an attention seeker.


I worry my writing is stupid.

I worry it makes no sense.

I worry it won’t make a single difference in the world.

I wonder if it even is worth posting.

I start blogs and delete them all the time.

I go through phases when I don’t write for days or even weeks.


Because I don’t feel like I have anything to say.

Because I feel like I am insufficient in my current state.

Because I think I wouldn’t want advice from someone like me.


I doubt.

I worry.

I wonder.

I wait.

And then, I write.


I like blogging.

I don’t consider myself even a blogger.

I like talking.

I like writing.

I hope it helps someone because I cannot express enough how much it helps me.

I hope one less person feels alone.

I hope one less person feels crazy.

I hope my words make sense.

I also sort of hope they don’t.


Because sometimes life doesn’t make sense.

And sometimes we think we are inadequate in every sense of the word.

And sometimes it can hinder us; sometimes it can seemingly destroy us.


But then, we can choose to do what makes us happy anyway.


I stink at dancing.

In fact, I suck at it.

But sucking at something is no excuse to not dance your heart out at every opportunity that comes your way.


Sucking at something means you should actually do it more.

Especially if it is sucking at something that makes you happy.


I like writing.

I don’t know if I am good at it.

But, it also doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter if I am the best or the worst.


Because I didn’t start blogging to be the best.

I started it to help myself heal.

I continued it because I hoped it would do the same for others.


Do what makes you happy.


So what if you think you cannot paint?

Do you absolutely lose your soul in swirling bizarre colors together on a piece of paper?

Then guess what? You rock at painting.


Because that’s the thing.

If something makes you happy, genuinely and deeply content and happy, then you can’t suck at it.


We suck at things that don’t align with our souls.

We suck at things that don’t make us smile.

We suck at things that make us question ourselves.

We do not suck at things we enjoy.


It’s impossible.

So, let that notion go.


If you have always wanted to write a novel. Start tonight.

If you think there is absolutely no way anyone in the entire planet would read a lick of your English, you are wrong.


Sorry to say it, but it’s true.

You are dead wrong.


Because when we find what we are passionate about; when we do things that align with our calling; when we take on activities, hobbies, tasks, etc. that bring nothing but joy to our days, we can only in return give joy to others through it all.


I don’t know if my writing is good. I don’t know if it is bad.

I don’t know if it is mumbo jumbo English typed on a MacBook sometimes at 2 am.


But, it’s what is on my heart.

It is what is on my mind.

It is what is in my soul.


And it is my tiniest act to try to make a difference in this world that matters.

It is my smallest attempt to help someone else every single time I type.

It is my passion. It is my voice.


And though sometimes I feel it may be sucky or it may be shitty, I dance anyway because I want to, because it makes me feel better to shittily dance than to not dance at all; because you will always think you are not good enough or not qualified enough to do something, so why not just make peace with that… and then go do it anyway.


Sincerely,

Emily

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