Take the shower, write the sentence
On writing through the moments when we really hate writing
I’ve come to terms with the fact
hating everything I write
is a part of my process
I’m embarrassed to show
everyone the work I
pride myself on.
The work I pour every emotion
into and say more than I do
to my own therapist.
Hating everything I write is
a part of the process.
Because hating myself
is the process.
I wrote this, obviously, during a period writer’s block, into which I tend to fall during waves of depression or sleep deprivation.
I doubt my talent and question my future as a writer. I stop writing and attempt to fill my plate with a new passion and a side of doom scrolling. I seek an easier way out than to push past the mental block. But, it turns out, writing, for a writer, is inevitable. It’s unavoidable, no matter how many detours we try to take.
Save yourself some time.
No need to stay on the sunny side. You don’t need to convince yourself that it is just a moment, or even that the moment will pass. What you need to do it remind yourself that you are a writer. Use that same little voice that says You need to take a shower, when you really don’t want to take a shower. The one that knows the number on the tag of that pair of jeans doesn’t matter at all. Sizing is arbitrary, silly. You don’t have to believe it right away, but say it anyway. You are a writer.
Then, write. Even if you have to do a little bargaining with yourself. (Just take a body shower, you can wash your hair next time; Cut the tag out and get some fro-yo in the food court). Face the page with clean skin and a fresh pair of jeans that make your ass feel nice and juicy in your chair. Write a single sentence about the worst cup of coffee you’ve ever had. Write a poem about writer’s block and how much you hate writing.
Through it all, give yourself grace.
It won’t be perfect. No one has to see it. There’s a reason we call them ugly first drafts. You don’t have to look at it ever again. In fact, writing is a lot like parenthood in that if you constantly worried you’re doing a terrible job, that probably means you’re killing it. And like parenthood, no matter how much it might overwhelm you, exhaust you, plague you with insecurity and self-doubt, the writer has no choice but to write. So write.
And remember, in the end, your story will turn out just fine.
♥️ Madison