Write It Anyway

Imagine going through a traumatic experience, maybe you lost someone you never imagined losing, or your mother has become so toxic that your only choice is to go no contact with her; and because you need help processing everything you look to books and online articles to find some sort of understanding, except you can’t find anything that touches on your situation. You search and search only to come up empty handed. So instead of finding comfort in the words of someone who has been in your shoes, you suffer silently, struggle daily, feeling more alone than you’ve ever felt. This is what happens when there is something placed on your heart to create, but you talk yourself out of it because you want to save it for when you have an audience, or because you’ve convinced yourself that being vulnerable is too risky–you rob someone of the chance to feel seen and understood, to feel less alone in a situation they thought only happened to them. I used to question why I went through certain things in my life, especially at the young age I experienced most of my hardships, but as I got older, I realized I went through those things not just for my own self-development but also so that I could share my experiences with others who found themselves in similar situations. The truth is, someone somewhere needs your work, as creatives it is not our job to know when our work will be needed, it is our job to make sure our work is there for when that person in need comes searching for it.

​Last year while I was in the middle of a reading/writing slump, I took a trip to my local library looking for some sort of inspiration. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for but trusted that when I came across it it would be obvious. It was. While meandering up and down the aisles, I was stopped by a pair of pretty doe-eyes staring back at me, instinctually I picked up the thick book and opened it to a page at random. On the page, the writer journaled about not feeling like a real writer and since those feelings deeply mirrored my own, I took that as my sign that this was the book I’d come for. Gathering Blossoms Under Fire: The Journals of Alice Walker, 1965-2000 is the book I credit for my return to writing. I’d never felt more connected to a book before, and although most of our life experiences were drastically different, especially considering the times Alice Walker was born into, there was something about her writing that spoke to me. I usually speed through books while reading them, especially if it’s a good one, but with this book I took my time wanting to really savor and absorb her words. This book forever changed me.

My biggest fear when it came to writing was thinking that no one would read my work. I knew what I had to say was important, but I was scared of being that vulnerable in my writing only to have no one read it. The era of instant gratification that we are in now doesn’t make it any better. I used to feel like if what I shared didn’t get a bunch of likes in the shortest amount of time it was a failure. I let outside validation, or the lack thereof, determine my writing’s worth. After finishing Gathering Blossoms Under Fire, however, my perspective on both sharing my work and instant gratification shifted. The one question I kept asking myself was: “Where would I be if Alice Walker never published this book?” Although it was published rather recently–two years ago–the first journal entries in the book were written twenty-seven years before I was even born. I thought to myself, “what if the person who needs your work won’t come across it for years? Are you going to hoard it for a later, more “perfect” time?” And then I thought of this powerful quote by Annie Dillard,

“One of the things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better.Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.”

Thankfully, I’m no longer hoarding my stories, as soon as the thought comes, I start writing. I might not finish them right away but at least they’re there existing on paper and not just floating around in my mind. I’m also no longer hyper-focused on how many people like + read my work. I don’t base my work’s value on outside validation. My last piece, Spin the Block on Your Dreams, got two likes and it honestly made my entire week. Of course, I want as many people as possible to read and connect with my work but it’s not my job to focus on that, my job is to focus on the thing that I can control–which is the writing–so that’s what I do. I trust that my work will reach who it is meant for when it is meant for them to find it. And if a piece that I write is only meant for one or two people but it helps them feel less alone in whatever they are going through, I am more than okay with that. So, for anyone who is scared to share their work, worried that no one will read it, write it anyway, and write it now.