I find it really hard to write sometimes. I get imposter syndrome, or I assume that whatever I have to say has already been said before or just isnât important. Sometimes I canât look at a blank page because Iâm so afraid that what I write on it wonât be good enough. But good enough for whom? Good enough for me. Because Iâm my biggest critic.
As I write this article, my mind thinks, âItâs bad. Itâs too informal. Itâs too critical. You donât have the authority to write about this. Itâs just a puff piece. You should just stop writing this and quit while youâre ahead.â If something I do isnât my version of perfect, my mind doesnât think itâs good enough. Nothing I create is ever perfect, so itâs never good enough. Whenever I feel like my writing isnât good enough, I feel like I shouldnât write because I donât deserve to.
Amanda Palmer writes in The Art of Asking how she sometimes feels undeserving of writing and like she isnât good enough when she writes about âThe Fraud Police:â
âThe Fraud Police are the imaginary, terrifying force of ‘real’ grown-ups who you believe – at some subconscious level – are going to come knocking on your door in the middle of the night, saying: âWe’ve been watching you, and we have evidence that you have NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOING…you do not actually deserve your job, we are taking everything away and we are TELLING EVERYBODYââ(42-43).
Writing is so sacred to me, and I often feel like I canât live up to the standards that other writers before me have created. I feel an intense self-doubt that is accompanied by fear of not living up to my conception of those standards. But all I can do is my best. All anyone can do is their best.
Margaret Atwood said that, âA word after a word after a word is power.” Words form sentences, and sentences form a complete piece. While Iâm writing about imposter syndrome in this piece, Iâm not giving power to it. Rather, Iâm giving power to overcoming it. Feeling like an imposter is a valid feeling, but nobody needs to feel that way.
Descriptivism is âthe belief that books about language should describe how language is really used, rather than giving rules to follow saying what is correct and not correctâ âGiving rules to follow saying what is correct and not correctâ is the prescriptivist approach. Regardless of what prescriptivists say, though, people will always use language in the way that they see fit. The same goes for writing. There are so many rules regarding writing, but people donât always follow them. In fact, people who break the traditional and formal rules of writing often make history through their experimental work.Â
People are going to write how they want to, regardless of what the rules of writing are, so why not be someone whoâs undeterred by the rules and just write what you want to how you want to? Thereâs so much power in writing, so just do the darn thing. Write what you want to how you want to. If need be, editing can always follow. Writing a first draft or a stream of consciousness journal entry doesnât need to be perfect. As Salvador Dali said, âHave no fear of perfection â youâll never reach it.â
The difference between a writer and someone who wants to be a writer is writing. The actual act of sitting down and putting thoughts on a page makes one a writer, and writing is a powerful act, as it is always a form of self-expression, regardless of the form or subject matter. Expressing oneself is brave, and there is no reason why one needs to be afraid of doing so. A teacher I had in high school once said, âNever be afraid to do something youâre good at.â If you think youâre bad at writing, youâre wrong. Thereâs no one way to write besides to sit down and write.
This piece is as much of a reminder to myself as it is to anyone else reading this: The way you write is uniquely yours, and nobody can take that away from you. Your voice is unique and powerful and deserves to be expressed, whether you want the world to hear it or you want it to stay locked in your journal forever. Youâre a writer, so write.