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Here Lies Fear
Some days I fall short
It has been almost two months since I last wrote a letter.
I can’t be sure if this is because I have had too much to say, or if I haven’t had anything worthy enough to say — either way, I know that I haven’t written because I am scared.
Truthfully, I don’t even want to be writing right now.
Now that I’m finished, I rescind this statement; its been nice.
I struggle to call what I’m experiencing imposter syndrome, although that’s what springs immediately to mind. I’ve heard that a lot of people struggle with this, and my understanding of it is a sensitivity to, or insecurity about, a skill or vocation one has. Maybe it’s your job, or a hobby. As someone who’d like to say they wear many hats, someone who gets brutally impatient when they can’t master a skill quickly — I’ve experienced insecurity like this.
However, I believe my fear to write and share more likely stems from my current urge to hide. I am experiencing a period of hibernation / slowness / recuperation / re-association that spans multiple axes of my life. From psychological to physiological to emotional, mental, physical… I am changing and growing, and while I change, I’d prefer not to be seen, I think. (That is, it feels quite vulnerable to write these posts.)
Then there’s Time. What a cruel mistress she is. Time compounds immensely with my fear. I lose touch with people as often as I change my socks. When I regain connection again, I fear that I’m an ineffectual communicator, or that I’m talking too much to make up for lost time. My birthday is next month, the holidays are here, and I feel lost in the vortex of time. As soon as I think I have hold of Time again, she gives me the slip.
Nonetheless, there are parts of me crawling out of the woodwork. I am keen to see where they end up. I am trying every day to be better. A better daughter, friend, roommate, mama to Apollo, a better partner, a better communicator, a better writer. Some days I fall short.
I have to give myself permission to fall short. You can give yourself permission to fall short, too.
If you’re reading this, and we haven’t spoken in a while, do send me a message. I’ll do my damndest to get back to you soon. I do hope you are well. Stay gentle.
With love, warmly,