There’s something scaring and exciting about letting people read what you write.
Of course, I’m not talking about, let’s say, blog posts – although they can be quite embarassing – but about “real” writings. Prose, poetry. Those things contain such a huge part of the soul… it’s like getting naked. But undressing the soul is even worse than undressing the body. It means extreme vulnerability, and it’s so scary.
But that’s the turning point: the more you do it, the more you want to do it. You would like the whole world to know, to read.
For years I kept my writings like a secret. There were only two people on Earth who knew about them: my sister and my best friend, and only the latter was allowed to read.
In the last year something has changed. I told my other best friend that I write and I found a kindred spirit. We have exchanged our writings and it has been exciting, and mind-opening, and inspiring.
In the last four months, I told five more people that I write, and I also let one of them read something. And it’s still terrifying – especially deciding to let her read something, that was awful – but at the same time it’s getting easier.
I started thinking about sharing with more people.
What helped me make the final decision was talking to this new friend of mine. She’s a writer as well, and she posts her writings on social media. What really surprised me was her confidence: about herself, about her writings. She’s so proud of her work, and that observation helped me realize that I’m proud of my works as well, so why shouldn’t I share them?
That’s how this blog was born. To overcome my fear of rejection. To share something I like doing.
Sometimes you just have to try and do what scares the hell out of you – with your eyes closed and your arms wide open.