Personal Essay: Fear

I love to write, but I’m afraid. My head reverberates with stories, monologues, and rehearsed one-liners, but I never let them out.  I fear what others will say if I let them inside my mind. I dread someone pointing out that I may not be as capable a writer as I think.

I know that others share this fear: many people have refused my badgering for magazine submissions, citing a lack of assurance in their art. In these encounters, I genuinely believe that they are acting silly. I assure them that they have nothing to worry about, that their work is valuable, that it deserves to be shared and enjoyed despite flaws. Why can’t I extend the same grace to myself?

My time with Vermilion has shown me my own hypocrisy. I appreciate the virtues of the weakest magazine submissions while unable to believe that someone could appreciate an attempt of my own. But I need to try. 

Hanging by my desk is a beautiful piece of calligraphy, a gift from my grandmother, which reminds me every day of the famous Chinese proverb: “A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.” I want to become the best writer that I can be, so I must take the step and open my work to others, whether they love it or hate it. I want people to share in the joy which writing brings me, so I must share the writing. One day, I hope to make myself proud.

December 2022