Spin the Block on Your Dreams

Ever since I was a child, I’ve wanted nothing more than to be a writer. I won essay contests in middle school, breezed through English in high school and received praises from my English + Creative Writing professors in college. A few years ago, right before the pandemic, I finally mustered up the courage to create a blog. I remember being so excited as I shared it with my family and Instagram community. Most posts were about serious topics that fell under the umbrella of self-care/self-love + mental health, others were about highlighting Black women that inspired me and some posts were light and fun, like the one I’d written about believing Rasputia was my upstairs neighbor because of all the stomping that was going on in the apartment above mine. I really enjoyed pushing myself to publish a new piece every week and loved getting feedback from my friends and followers about their thoughts on my posts. Shortly after the pandemic, however, I not only experienced the most crippling and extreme case of writers’ block–that has only recently begun to dissipate–but also a severe case of depression that I believed stemmed from being locked up in my studio apartment, alone, for days–sometimes weeks on end. As much as I wanted to continue writing I couldn’t, and eventually decided to shut my blog down. A few years have passed since then, and not a day has gone by that I haven’t dreamt about returning to writing in a more public way. Last year I decided to create a Substack account, feeling like I was finally ready to write and share my work again. There was only one problem–I was too scared.

The main reason I stopped myself from writing was because of my obsession with perfection. I know that I am a good writer, but I am rusty as hell. Writing for me is not like riding a bike it’s more like going back to the gym after months of being inactive. I didn’t want to suck. I didn’t want people to see me sucking. Typos sometimes sneak into my writing; my tenses sometimes change mid-sentence and commas are my sworn enemy–I’m not one hundred percent sure when they are necessary and when they aren’t. I believe it was a Stephen King book on writing where he said, “When in doubt pinky out.” …Wait no, that was Patrick Star. King said, when referring to commas, “When in doubt, leave them out.” But using commas makes me feel more accomplished, more writer-like…more perfect. Another insecurity I have when it comes to my writing is my vocabulary–my active vocabulary to be specific. Your active vocabulary consists of words you know and use daily, your passive vocabulary consists of words you know the meaning of when you see or hear them, but these are not words that you yourself use during communication. My passive vocabulary is quite expansive, my active vocabulary…not so much. Having a rich vocabulary, to me, is an important part of being a writer. Author Jim Rohn once said, “Vocabulary enables us to interpret and to express. If you have a limited vocabulary, you will also have a limited vision and a limited future.” Some may think that quote is a little extreme, but for me I 100% agree. The more colors I have on my palette the more possibilities I have for creating a beautiful painting. This is how I feel about writing, but instead of letting what I consider to be a limited active vocabulary keep me from writing, I will use what I have while learning more along the way.

There are two quotes that helped–and continue to help–me let go of perfectionism when it comes to anything but especially my writing. One is by author Octavia E. Butler who wrote in one of her journals, “All good things must begin.”  The other is by Youtuber, Lana Blakely, who stated, “It doesn’t need to be perfect; it just needs to exist.” Both quotes remind me that not only is it okay to be shitty in the beginning, it’s a requirement. No one who is great at anything started off that way. Octavia didn’t say, “All good things must be good to begin.” Just that they needed to begin. So now I embrace my imperfections, not just in writing, but in life in general. I’m okay with putting out work that will probably make me cringe in a year because I know that I cannot get to level ten without first stumbling through level one.

“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”

—Julia Cameron

Although I have tried to close the door on writing many times–mostly out of fear and insecurity–the urge to write has never left me. It has always stuck its foot at the bottom of the door preventing me from shutting it all the way and for that I am grateful. I’ve spent the last hour sitting in a crowded but comforting coffee shop, writing + editing this piece and the joy it has brought me is indescribable. I am proud of myself, not only for choosing to return to writing, but also for pushing through every excuse procrastination tried to entice me with to keep me stagnant. May we all find the strength to revisit the dreams that refuse to leave us.