The Sharpest Words

For this week’s blog post, I decided to sit down, write whatever came to mind, and edit it, all within half an hour! So, here we go…

I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed, with my friend Debz working beside me on video chat (muted) and Heart Radio blasting ‘This is Me’ from The Greatest Showman. This is brave, this is bruised, this is who I’m meant to be: this is me.

I have written first drafts of a few blogs posts but am feeling a bit ‘meh’ about all of them. They’re stilted and incomplete and flawed in at least one way. Self-consciousness has crept in. The whole ‘dance like no one’s watching’ thing has a lot going for it!

It reminds me of when I was a child. I didn’t used to be aware of my reflection when passing mirrors or reflective surfaces, which was probably obvious to anyone who saw the scruffy young girl in her brother’s hand-me-downs, with rattail hair and often a vacant expression! And then teenage-hood hit and I felt hyper-conscious…and inadequate. Adulthood has been easier, but I would love to go back to the complete lack of awareness of how I might appear to others. It seems a happier, simpler place.

Anyway, the same thing happened in my writing life. Up until the age of twelve, I wrote uninhibited; after that, the fear appeared, and I pushed writing to the back of my mind for far too long. I have found my flow since then, but sometimes I still have to remind myself to write freely, to ‘write like no one’s reading’, because I can’t bear the idea of being creatively paralysed again.

Now I’m near the end of this blog post, I can start to feel my ‘judgments’ – my hands slow down on the keyboard, and my critic’s eyes scan for meaning and clarity. Stop!

There is nothing like the rawness that comes from being unobserved, unjudged. Those are the words that really cut through. Sometimes it’s best just to write.

This is me.

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