Getting Secure

I have a lot of insecurities. I won't list them, because really what is the point in that, but suffice it to say that when people really get to know me, they realize that many of my moments of confidence are actually just a huge ruse. Confident? Me? What?

A lot of my insecurities are connected to my writing. That is part of the reason why I tried to convince myself not to write for a long time. I just didn't think that I was that good. Maybe I could say a poem of mine in a nice way that made people like it, but when they were reading it at home, they wouldn't hear my voice...and the poem would be lifeless. This is what I thought anyway (truth: I still feel this way).

The reading was a huge test for me. I invited friends and family to hear my writing. The cherry on top? I only chose the words. I had no control over how they were read. Cue insecurity.

Maybe putting myself out there was a good thing because since the reading, I've been feeling more, well, secure. Yes, I am terrified my friends lied to me and really did hate my play or will after they read the whole thing. Yes, I am terrified that I write plays when I should be writing novels--both of which may suck. Yes, I am terrified that I have made a decision to follow this dream for naught, because I suck. Yes, I am terrified that I suck.

I started yet another play on Monday. I started it as more of a poem and when I was in the shower yesterday (I've discussed my habit of working out dialogue in the shower, yes? It is like singing in the shower...but talking...acting...to myself.), I heard the conversation between the two characters. I pulled out 4.48 Psychosis and Nocturne and remembered how much I loved these plays which fool with form in a way I get and appreciate. When I sat at the computer again, my poem became stage directions. The conversation became dialogue. And it felt true to me.

Sometimes I think I am the only one that gets insecure about writing. I have many writer/artistic friends who seem to be filled with confidence. I see how their confidence helps them too. They submit their work to places, contests, etc. that I've deemed "too good" to even try for. They do their own readings, their own productions. They've gotten fellowships and residencies. They've gotten or are in the process of getting their MFAs because they didn't try to talk themselves out of it. I look at them and see no insecurity. But I am wrong, right? Some of them are just as insecure as me? Just as terrified? Hello, writer-artist friends...a little commiserating please? Also, other friends who may not be in the arts, but are just as insecure? I'm not alone, right? I'm also not alone in feeling like everyone else has taken so confidence pill I am unaware of?

I can be my own worst enemy, selling myself and my work short. After Sunday, I am paying more attention to this tendency and trying to work on getting more secure. I guess my first step is to just write what I want to write and how I want to write and ask questions later. It is giving my play to friends without a line about how they may hate it (okay, I still write this in every email...but I am aware of it now). It is being proud of my work and standing behind it. I've done a lot of "work" lately on respecting my self, my body, my beliefs and getting others to respect me, but I haven't done as much on respecting my work, respecting what I produce. Time to get on that.

p.s. I am slowly coming out of my December haze. More posts on race, gender, how writers and why writers write to come in the next few weeks. Promise!