It is 2:23 in the morning and I’m finally putting my fingers to the keys and not looking back.
I’ve been a writer for as long as I can remember. I never did excel in other subjects the way I stood out in English class. My ability to breeze through standardized testing with almost perfect marks helped me skip a grade and my penchant for strong essay writing caught the attention of universities and colleges. But ultimately, I stood in the way of my own success with self doubt, self loathing, and a lack of belief that the only thing I loved to do would get me anywhere in life.
Sure, I’ll write stories or blogs in the comfort of my queen sized bed for my eyes only, but taking my skills mainstream for everyone to read and critique and potentially hate? Never.
I can do this. I will stop sabotaging myself out of fear. I can write the book I’ve always envisioned holding in my hands. I can write my thoughts out and help or entertain people (and as an over thinker I have MANY thoughts). I can give myself the outlet my mind is begging for. I have the power.
And maybe people will will read this. And maybe they won’t. You never know until you try.