This is my third attempt at keeping a blog. It’s time consuming. It’s high maintenance. It’s become a chore.
It’s been since July 18th that I have written a blog post. I have used the excuses of visiting my family back home, busy work week, and the Olympics (although, I think that last one is pretty universal excuse not to do anything). The first three posts have gone successful, with many readers and recognition from my peers. But since then, I am afraid I won’t have anything to say once a week that’s worth reading.
I’m a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to writing. A lot of the times I question whether what I am saying is enough. Am I wasting the reader’s time? Will I lose credibility with followers if I am? I put great expectations on myself and I am not even sure that I even have that many people who read my blog.
Amidst questions of doubt and writer’s anxiety, the meaning of this blog fades into a unrecognizable blur. The reason I write is because without it, I am merely a broken typewriter. My buttons rust and my carriage return jams. I am paperless and remain a story unwritten.
This is the difficulty of keeping a blog. These are the perils of a writer. These are my fears.
However, these fears are exactly what keep me from doing what I love. The avoidance of disappointing holds me back from me being me in my truest form. The only tools that can activate those rusted buttons and unlock my carriage return are the tools of courage to push on, taking risks, and having self confidence.
As a writer, I don’t think I will ever avoid the ripples of anxiety and fear. But as a dreamer, I can promise myself that won’t stop me from making waves with my writing in a big ocean of creativity.
So to my fellow bloggers who also share this anxiety repeat after me: “I have a voice and I will use it. I have a story and I will tell it.”
Cheers to words and good riddance to fear.