On Embracing Vulnerability And Growth

An honest conversation about my inner critic winning

Hi hello!

While I am fully aware that no one asked or complained about it (because, duh!), my brain won’t let me rest until I share with you why I have not published anything since my last newsletter back in February. So, here we go:

1. Work got super busy. I took on this big project back in November, and it picked up steam in February. 

2. Diana, my dog, got injured and then had this growth in her eye that needed attention.

3. Painting became my primary creative outlet. I thought about sharing my art here but didn’t think it was worth it.

4. I have not been able to get my meds refilled. It has been a mess.

5. I was “planning” for this two-week trip to India with my sister. I was going to India after 7 years, and as you can imagine, it came with its own set of anxieties. (I put planning in quotes because my mom did all the planning. I just booked the tickets and packed a bag.)

6. I went on this trip to India and then got sick.

7. I have been sick. A cough, cold, sinus infection, etc.

You get the idea. Life got busy like it always does. Here’s the thing, though: I didn’t try to find time to edit or write anything this time. I kept reminding myself that my plate was really full right now, so it was okay for something to fall off the plate. I didn’t feel guilty about not writing or publishing anything. Honestly, I would call this newfound self-compassion progress since it doesn’t come naturally to me.

Photo by Mishal Ibrahim on Unsplash

However, about a week ago, I realized what was actually going on underneath all these “excuses” about my plate being full as I kept adding more things to it. Bear with me here.

My last post, a survival guide for BAD ADHD days, got way more engagement than I am used to. If you are like, “Gurl, calm down. Seventeen likes is not a big deal!” I hear you, BUT ALSO, SEVENTEEN “STRANGERS” LIKED WHAT I WROTE! It is a big deal to me! I don’t think of myself as a writer (I know, I know! Technically, I am writing this). I started this Substack with twenty-five of my friends and family, most of whom had no clue what they had been signed up for, and now hundreds of people subscribe to my little, silly corner on the internet! Some people recommend this Substack and my brain can’t compute. I think I have peaked here. Yes, seventeen likes is my peak, and I am very okay with it. 

While it might sound like it, I promise you that I am not trying to brag. What I am trying to say, in a very long-winded way, is that I am out of my comfort zone here. I don’t know what to write about, if my writing is any good, or if what I have to say even makes any sense. 

Additionally, the stakes seem higher now. It might be all in my head, but disappointing (or bugging) twenty-five people with my newsletter was less stressful. Also, what if I publish something and people hate it? I am afraid to see that unsubscribe notification, which might seem counterintuitive. Even the thought of it triggers my RSD; hence, no writing.  

All these thoughts have been spiraling in my head for a while now. At this moment, I don’t have a solution to any of it. I am just accepting and processing it out loud. I think that’s the first step to anything, right?

While I don’t have any definite tips or strategies to share with you at this moment, there is one thing that has been helping me acknowledge and come to terms with these feelings - a group of fellow writers¹. Rey Katz is leading a small but mighty group of us through this four-week non-fiction creative writing class. There is a theme to every week; for example, in the very first week, we discussed our goals for our writing. The people in the group have been extremely warm, encouraging, and generous with their stories. I leave the class feeling inspired to work on my writing. In fact, for the last two weeks, I have promised the group that I will stop giving in to my inner critic and publish this scatterbrained piece of mine. SO HERE IT IS, FOLKS! Here’s my feeble attempt at sharing my struggles with my inner critic. While it might look like procrastination, laziness, or a lack of motivation to some, it is just my silly ADHD brain (with a dash of childhood trauma) playing all kinds of tricks to chip away at my confidence.

It feels weird to end this newsletter without providing anything “useful”, so I am just gonna leave you with some pictures of my not-so-teeny-tiny no-so-puppy puppies. Okay, that is definitely useful!

Diana and Angel are at the beach, looking goofy as usual. Picture thanks to their very talented walker.

1. I struggle to identify as a writer because I don’t know; I am not doing it for a living. I am just putting my thoughts and fears into the world to feel less alone on this journey.