When Shadows Threaten

Most of my life has been in the shadow of someone else. Whether this was a real person, or a fictitious nemesis, there was always something to outdo me; to outshine me. Shrinks would probably call this anxiety. I call this my Bane; the big dude telling Batman that he will break him.

Part of what drives me is my comparison to others. Part of what makes me a perfectionist is the way I study what others do to receive the recognition that I, myself, want. Part of it is that I don’t want to fail. I’m afraid.

BIG SIGH now that my biggest secret is out in the open. But is it? Really, that’s just the surface. Anyone who deals with their own Bane knows it goes much deeper. I deleted a paragraph of ranting about life not being fair, about family pitted against one another, because you know what? At the end of the day, those are only excuses brought on by fear.

To move forward and to become a better person–to shed my Bane– I need to shake it off. I might even sing that Taylor Swift song at the top of my lungs! (In reality, probably not. I’m too ashamed of my way off key voice.)  I’m still going to compare myself to the next person; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give that up! However, I’m going to look closely at the larger shadow next to me to see if they truly possess a quality that I want to work towards.

So much of what we see is only surface deep; the things a person wants you to see. I must dig deeper, observe, evaluate: does this idolized figure have a quality that I admire? Perhaps then my internal Bane will be a whisper instead of a booming shout.

What I’m reading: Beautiful You by Chuck Palahniuk

Why I Write

I write because I need to write. That is what many writers say.

I write because I need to feel. I need to process the world around me, take in the images I see, and process the feelings, the emotions that linger long after the image is gone. Writing keeps me grounded. Without writing, I would go through life, not truly seeing what is around me.

As a writer, I sit at the edge of a conversation or interaction. Being a writer means taking into account what is around me, observing what takes place during gatherings or impromptu conversations. If I wasn’t a writer, I’d be a daydreamer.

I’ve always been a writer; however, it wasn’t until recently that I identified myself as a writer. In elementary school I wrote stories about my cat and dog; middle school I copied Edgar Allan Poe’s style, and wrote stories and plays of the macabre. High school I penned poems of unrequited love (because who didn’t do that in high school?). College killed my creative writing. I was excited to take a creative fiction writing class, but not so excited the mechanics of sentence structure. I stopped writing. I stopped feeling.

Only recently, at my husband’s suggestion, did I attend graduate school for creative writing. I had dreams of being an editor. He had dreams of being married to the next very successful author.

I learned all over again how to feel through words.

Now I write because I need to write. Days without writing negatively affects my mood. Of course I want to be a successful author, but that is not why I write.

Currently reading: What’s Important is Feeling by Adam Wilson