Five articles in and I’m already so stuck as to what I should write about that I’ve resorted to writing about, well, writing. How convenient, right?
Actually, there’s plenty of stuff that I could write about. My life isn’t mundane, by any means. I have a wide variety of experiences and interests, I live with the mindset that everything is an adventure and I’m extremely opinionated, so finding a topic should not be this difficult.
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Yet it is.
Maybe it’s not that there’s an issue of finding a topic, but of actually going through with writing about it. I have a collection of unfinished articles, but it takes me far too long to wrap them up. I’ll start piecing together sentences and ideas in my head throughout the week, but when I sit down to actually string them together, my mind either blanks or becomes absolutely chaotic.
Another problem I’ve found is that I’m not used to writing for an audience of people who I know and interact with on a regular basis. I’m used to writing long, passionate rants and fragmented poems for Tumblr and although I do know a few of my followers, my audience is broad and consists primarily of strangers, so I can easily hide behind my computer screen.
I can’t do that here.
Whatever I type, whatever I publish – that’s fair game for anyone who I allow to see it. Depending on my topic, you, the reader, can get a glimpse into my life that most of you wouldn’t be allowed in normal interactions with me. I can only hide behind my computer screen for so long before I eventually have to face you again. By being so candid about some of my experiences, I’m making myself vulnerable and open. I’m potentially giving you ammunition to use against me and grounds to judge me, and it’s quite terrifying, especially because a lot of what I’ve written and started writing thus far is still relevant and has hit really close to home. In fact, I cried almost the entire time that I was writing the letter to the younger versions of myself.
Of course, I get to choose what I write about. I am by no means obligated to write about intensely personal or serious subjects every week, but I’m learning that I’m terrible at writing 500 words about “fun” topics and fluff. It’d be so much easier if I could write about swing dancing or music without relating it back to something extremely personal, but alas, I can’t. Not yet.
Honestly, part of me doesn’t have a problem with being candid about my experiences. As I told one of my friends the other day, I like to think that I’ve mastered the art of being open enough that people feel comfortable with me because they feel like they have a good idea of who I am, but closed off enough to maintain my privacy and still be intriguing (for the record, he agreed). I can easily shrug off or laugh about most things, or at least convincingly act unbothered.
On the other hand, I’m scared that people will look at and treat me differently based on what I share through my writing. As much as I’d like to think that I’m secure enough in myself that I’ll be okay with that, I don’t know if I really believe it and I definitely don’t want it to seem like I’m disclosing all this personal information for attention.
When it really comes down to it, I want my writing to be thought-provoking and inspirational. I want my writing to challenge your thinking or make you at least consider a perspective that you might not have before. But I also don’t want to be writing extremely serious, journal-entry style articles every week. They’re easier to write than lighthearted pieces because I have plenty to say, but they’re mentally and emotionally draining.
I really don’t know where my writing will be going in the future. Maybe next week, I’ll talk about something extremely controversial or politically charged, or maybe I’ll figure out how to write something lighthearted – who knows? I certainly don’t. Regardless, I do hope that you join me for the journey; it’ll be quite the adventure.
