The irony of this is humbling. Today marks the first day of having the space and freedom to write in a capacity greater than an Instagram caption. I’ve yearned for this for a long time now. Writing has always been my anchor. Since I was a little girl, I have been journaling and documenting the world through my lens. There is comfort and calm here.  

Except this time.  

All I feel is fear. 

Earlier this year, I sat around a table with three women and voiced the gaps in my heart. “I want to write more. I need to write more.” I felt desperate for an outlet. These thoughts started to take shape, and the progress started to unfold. Action was taking place. The void became a thought, which became an idea, which became a declaration. And then I told a few people, and a few more after that. I announced it to my team, and then to the world. A wall of fear slowly started to build with each person I told. The anticipation was climbing. Expectations were being set. The universe heard me loud and clear. I panicked. 

“What if after all this time of yearning and planning – I can’t?” 

“What if I have nothing to say?” 

“What if I fail to my own standards? Or others?” 

I lived in this space for a moment, and I still revisit it from time to time. Aren’t these the questions that eat us alive? Aren’t these the questions that hold us back? Aren’t these the questions that protect us from failure? Aren’t THESE the questions I debunk for so many others?  

Yes. 

I’m human, too. I’ll be faced with these questions for the rest of my life. So will you. It doesn’t matter how confident or successful you are, fear is natural. How you manage fear is what sets you apart.  

I know better now. I know what purpose these thoughts serve. I understand that I have a choice to listen to them, or not. I’ve learned how to navigate fear and compartmentalize these soul-sucking, nagging whispers.  

I visualized my fears and my ultimate failures. I pictured myself sitting at my desk with an empty Word document. I felt the embarrassment of disappointing my team, and those that have been so supportive in my journey. My head in my hands, and my spirit crushed with humility. I imagined flat words just taking up space with no meaning or impact. A dead end. I visualized the money I’ve spent building this out and lighting it all on fire. A waste. I even visualized myself losing my joy of writing.  

Not one of these outcomes killed me. They were uncomfortable, but the worst of the worst of the WORST was not the end of the world. For every “I can’t,” I whispered right back, “But what if I can?” 

I politely stepped over these thoughts, accepted whatever unknown struggle and humility may ensue, and continued forward. I may fail myself, and you. But, it won’t be because I held back.  

All that to say, welcome to my blog. I guess I did have a few things to write.