In All Honesty

You know sometimes I think it’s funny. I’m supposed to be this right-brained, creative thinker, stick it to the man type of person. People employed in creative fields are often portrayed as rule breakers, giving the public “groundbreaking” or “daring” things. They do “art for arts sake,” and if no one likes their art who cares because it’s mine. No one can take that away.

And really, I do wish that were me. I wish I could sit back and let people decide what they think, and if what they think is negative, then by gone they’re just wrong and my art is amazing and who cares. But that just isn’t me. That’s never me.

I don’t mind bending the rules a little bit. I don’t mind having new, innovative ideas that some people might consider weird or out there. But getting completely rejected is something I’m not comfortable with. I can’t do my work and say “here it is, whether you like it or not.” I have to have that qualifier, something that tells me that yes people will approve.

But really, it’s my own mind game. I’m my own worst critic, and truthfully, it’s hard for me to say that I’ve ever thought that my art (whether it be performance or my writing) is actually good. I mean I still get uncomfortable when people ask “what have you written?” and I say that I’ve been working off and on a “book” for a little over 3 years. It makes me feel uncomfortable just typing it. I don’t think I deserve to even call my writing a book.

There’s plenty of my writing that I’ve liked. There’s writing that I’ve shared. And there;s writing that I’ve gotten approval on from multiple people.

But unfortunately, I’ve never truly believed them. I smile, nod, say thank you and that it means a lot, because it does. Each type I receive a compliment, I get a little brick in my self-esteem house. It comes along slowly.

But there’s more things working against me than there are working for me. I had to give a presentation today, and I did so much more badly than I could have imagined (and I already knew I’d struggle). And even though that has nothing to do with writing, it’s just a school assignment and I do well in that class normally, I can’t help but to think that if I can’t do one presentation, who am I to think that I can be a writer, that I can be successful and independent when I mess up a simple thing that the rest of my class does fine with.

It’s awful to face, but it’s the bitter truth. My inadequacy can be crippling, and in turn it destroys my self-esteem.

I apologize for the downer, but sometimes being creative comes with harsh realities. The tortured artist might by a silly cliché but the struggles people face are still real.