Some Well (Or Ill) Timed Imposter Syndrome

I’m not the only writer who compares himself to others. I’m not the only creator who feels like his creations are worse than they actually are. In the world of artistry and pulling ideas out of your head to turn them into a creative piece, looking at your finished product (and at times, your work-in-progress) and thinking “this is a pile of garbage” is just a part of the process. It doesn’t have to be, but it usually is.

Lately, I feel like I’ve been slinging out a bunch of hot, smelly garbage when it comes to writing. I can smell it even before it hits the blank document, and I immediately discourage myself from the idea that anyone else would even want to look at it. It’s been hard, because every time I finish the grueling creative process with my writing, I get such a damn rush that I can’t get from anything else. So feeling like everything I’ve been doing lately is subpar, plus seeing the success of so many other writers, makes me feel like I don’t have what it takes to let my creativity shine. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m quite ecstatic to see others succeed, especially when they’re other queer writers. However, I start to feel like I need what they have in order to succeed, and I talk myself down into thinking that I’ll never have it. Nevermind the fact that what they have and what I have can exist at the same time and be equally as successful; my brain thinks I just won’t make the cut.

This all changed when I just recently received this email:

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Okay well, I’m exaggerating. Not ALL of it changed, but it did take me a little bit out of the immense imposter syndrome I’ve been feeling for a bit. Like I don’t know if I actually deserve the success I get because I don’t believe I’m at the level of other successful writers.

I keep going through these motions of being a writer where I feel like the talent just isn’t there, like people are just saying I’m a good writer because it’s better than saying I’m a bad one. Even receiving this email (which, don’t get me wrong, I am THRILLED about it), I feel like I’m still just some run-of-the-mill gay writer on the Internet.

This publishing house wanted a short, 1250-word excerpt for their collection. I could have just combed through my old projects and sent one of those out, but what did I do, instead? I busted my ass to write a whole new piece from scratch. I didn’t have to, as I didn’t have that long of a time to write and edit a whole new piece to send to this publication, but I did it, and that work paid off. Yet, I still feel like it didn’t actually happen. Like maybe it’s going to slip away, somehow. How, exactly? I don’t know, but I keep feeling it.

Regardless, I’m trying to stay on the lighter side of it. This is my second publication I’ve gotten in to! That’s huge! I wouldn’t have been given this if there wasn’t talent in what I do. I worked hard for it, and I know I deserve it, and as long as I keep reminding myself of that, I know I can move forward and continue to put that energy into something bigger and better, so I’m going to do what I can to ignore the imposter syndrome, and keep writing the way I know I can. This may sound all kinds of cliché, but gurl, I just learned that I’m getting published. I can get a little sappy and cliché if I want to!

And believe me, I’m just getting started. I have bigger ideas that I will for sure be putting some good energy into, so once this imposter syndrome stops being so damn loud (which may never happen, but I’m feeling optimistic while writing this), the world will see just how mighty my pen can be! (Not a euphemism, ya nasties.)

Variety is Spicier Than You Think

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Photo by Lukas Budimaier on Unsplash

I’m gonna sound like the biggest nerd, but I’m pretty sure that most people already think I am, so there’s really no going back, now.

I had this idea to pan fry some sweet potatoes as a side dish for dinner, this week. A novel idea for me, as this would be the first time I ever bought fresh sweet potatoes to cook. A lot of my side dishes will include some sort of grain (usually brown rice or quinoa) and a vegetable, so I get in this cycle of eating the same meal archetypes all the time. However, I recently remembered that, oh hey! I like sweet potatoes when they’re a little salty and crispy, so why not make my own sweet potatoes? I usually get sweet potato fries because they’re so easy to just throw in the oven, but there’s like, added sugar and stuff and I’m trying to limit the amount of processed food I eat, so this seemed like the next best thing. A little more work, but I think it’ll be worth it.

Now, the sweet potatoes are sitting in my kitchen, and I’m getting so damn excited to cook them. Like, I’m unrealistically excited to dice them up, add some salt (and maybe some rosemary), and cook them in a pan. Yeah, total nerd.

It seems like such a simple thing to get excited about, but it’s better than, y’know, not being excited about something, right? Like, here’s this nerd on the internet rambling about how he’s really excited to cook some sweet potatoes, and maybe you might think it’s weird or annoying that he’s rambling about his pan-fried sweet potatoes, but certainly it’s better than hearing about why he’s sad all of the time. Not saying that he’s necessarily sad, but maybe he’s just had a hard time finding that spice in his life. Maybe a few sweet potatoes are what he needs to remind himself to change things up, every so often. 

I think we can find ourselves doing the same things over and over, not really inspiring ourselves to try new things. Parents encourage their kids to try new things not just to make sure they actually eat a vegetable, but also to add variety and excitement to their food options. Meanwhile, as adults, we can still find ourselves eating the same things, going to the same restaurants, taking the same trips, doing the same activities with friends; all of these things can be fulfilling, but sometimes it adds some excitement to know that you’re about to try something new. As long as it’s a new thing that gets you excited, that could be all you need to add some of that spicy variety to your life.

Go to a new coffee shop to get work done. Meet your best friends at a restaurant none of you have tried, before. Try a new vegetable. Try a new dessert. Try baking a new dessert (even if you think you’re terrible at it, you could surprise yourself). Explore a new city in your state. Do something you’ve never done before, but maybe have always wanted to.

Just get out of that zone of familiarity and try something new. Even if it’s the most minuscule thing you can think of, and as long as it’s bringing that excitement of trying something new, get into it. Do that thing. Even if it’s just buying some sweet potatoes and throwing them in a pan, start changing things up on regular basis. Give yourself things to get excited about.

Collaboration and Accountability

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Photo by Daniel Cheung on Unsplash

I was talking with my sister about writing projects, as she’s also quite the writer, herself. I talked about how I had all of these ideas for big projects that I can’t really just get out of my head. She happened to be stuck in a similar rut, and though she said she’d been wanting to get out of her writing dry spell, she managed to crank out a pretty great poem. That’s the thing about her, though; she has ideas, and she immediately guns for them. With my ideas, I can often find it hard to stay in the present.

She mentioned at one point that she wanted to collaborate with more people for the ideas she had, and one part that stuck out for me is that she wanted to do it for the sense of accountability. There would be someone else working with her who’s depending on her input, so if she falls short in getting the work done, it’s not just failing her, but will also be failing someone else. I’m certain most of it is because she actually enjoys working with others to get to a common goal, but the accountability part struck me as particularly interesting, because I can’t say that I’ve ever thought of it, that way.

I’ve always been interested in collaboration with others, but always fall short in knowing just what I should do to initiate it. Like, I know what a good approach for collaboration sounds like, but my mind is always telling me “Ooh gurl, you gonna get REJECTED.” That’s not really the best reason to discourage myself from it, but hey, we all have our battles with insecurity to face. I know plenty of talented, hardworking individuals who put out some amazing work, and I know our talents combined can be a force to be reckoned with, but…I don’t know. I suddenly feel like I don’t know what to offer when I approach them, which I’m aware is a defeatist attitude that has no place in my line of work. However, I just get too into my head comparing my own talents with the talents of others, and start feeling like I don’t have much to offer. Neat! (Not.)

Anyway, if I can work through my imposter syndrome with my talents, I could actually ask people about collaborations, but this got me thinking about which ways I actually do hold myself accountable, for the projects I take part in. I committed to releasing a blog post every Tuesday, I have a set schedule for when I stream on Twitch, and I have certain rewards on my Patreon that I make sure get put up in a week (on a good week. I do realize I need to get better at regularly updating on there). Aside from that, I try to use sheer willpower to commit myself to write at least 500 words of something every day, but even then, it doesn’t always happen. It seems like, for the things I know people are expecting of me each week, I can get those out without fail. But when it’s something I have to hold myself accountable for, I’m suddenly at a loss. There’s no fountain of infinite productivity. It’s just a bowl of stagnant water.

While I can’t collaborate on every single project that I do, it does get me thinking about how I can implement similar ideas to hold myself accountable. Whether that’s rewarding myself for staying on track, only doing “relaxing” things after I’ve gotten a good amount of scheduled work done for the day (and actually making a schedule of tasks I want to get done), or something along this lines, I think I’ll be able to find a sense of accountability. I have too many projects, and too many things I want to accomplish, so finding a way to make sure I take the responsibility needed to achieve those goals is not just desired, but necessary, at this point.

What ways do you keep yourself accountable for getting work done? Leave them in the comments! I’d love to hear about how you keep yourself on track!daniel-cheung-554579-unsplash (thumbnail)

Creating Happiness

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Photo by Amy Shamblen on Unsplash

Over the weekend, I had a late birthday party with friends at my house. At first, I felt a little weird about doing this, because it’s the house I’ve been growing up in since I was like, four years old. I still don’t even really consider it my house, even though it’s technically mine, now, and I think that’s a big part of why I felt it would be weird. The house has so much history, and so many design touches to it that don’t really speak to how I would make a house a home, so the idea of having a bunch of friends over in this space as if it were my own just felt strange. Not so strange that I thought about not going through with it, but strange enough to wonder what everyone else was thinking of it.

I easily could have gone out to a restaurant like most other people do, and we could have gone bar-hopping like most twenty-somethings do, but this was my party, dammit. I didn’t want to pile ourselves into loud, public spaces and have conversations we couldn’t even hear. I wanted to cram my friends into the living room and play party games on the Nintendo Switch while eating good food and drinking great booze, so that’s what I decided we’d do. It was just social enough to not exhaust this little introvert.

My other thought while planning this party was that, toward the end of my mom’s battle with breast cancer, this house was filled with terrible memories. We were all pessimistic, sad, and angry most of the time, caretakers were coming in and out of the house constantly, and the house was no longer feeling like home. I think the vibe from those memories still lingers in the house, and it definitely drags down the experience of living in it (trust me, I’m working on moving into a place of my own). Whether or not it was for me, or for the ghost of my mom, I wanted to do something to counteract all of those bad memories. My mom enjoyed entertaining guests, and so do I, so I decided to try and create some happy memories within this space.

And you know what? It turned out great.

I got some pretty delicious chicken, rice, and beans (and a BEAUTIFULLY delicious cake), bought a plethora of alcohol to choose from (even made a spiked peach tea) and had enough games for everyone to consider. Turns out, I actually really like organizing events like these. It was my first time doing a catering order, trying to figure out how much I would need to buy as far as drinks go, and getting the house all set up to have a great night. I had helped my mom with organizing some parties like this before, but this was my first time doing it all. I had a feeling it would all be okay, but it wasn’t until we were all sitting in my living room, laughing while playing some of the best party games (The Jackbox Party Pack 4), that I finally knew that it was all going well. A friend even told me that I throw a great party, so now it’s set in stone and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Overall, the birthday party did what I set out for it to do. It filled the space up with laughter, friendship, and love (that’s so corny, but I’m standing by it), and I think it needed that as some of its final memories. Even though I know I won’t be living here in this house the foreseeable future, I figured this could be one of many parting gifts that I give it before I say farewell. It had so many good, bad, important, silly, sentimental, uplifting, and heartbreaking memories behind it, and I wanted to make sure it at least ended this family’s history with it on a good note. There may still be many more memories to come for it, but at least I could contribute something that shined bright for more than just myself.

Thanks for checking out this overly sentimental and (hopefully) heartwarming post. I’ve grown more sappy and emotional as I’ve aged, so y’all are just gonna have to keep dealing with that. Sorry, not sorry!

Trying to be Productive while Emotionally Exhausted

 

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Photo by Xavier Sotomayor on Unsplash

So I’m just gonna put it out there; this last week was emotionally exhausting. It went from high highs to low lows, and I kind of wished I could just sleep for a whole day to recover from it. However, this has affected me to the point where the only productivity I’ve really had was doing some streams on Twitch, and writing has kind of fallen off of the grid. From there, I get myself in a cycle of self-sabotaging thoughts, thinking “I need to really get my ass in gear” and I start criticizing myself for small mistakes I make in a day. Those harsh critiques make me feel like I can’t work hard, then the productivity slips, and it all just turns into some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Ugh.

I’m not going to go into detail about what has caused the exhaustion, but the magnitude to which it exhausted me was unexpected. It became a lot to process, and instead of firing words off onto a word document when I decided to get some work done, I sat and processed emotions while staring at a blank screen. Of course, this made me more anxious, and if that anxious energy didn’t serve as a type of writer’s block, I probably wouldn’t be having this problem. (Side note, wouldn’t it be cool if we could somehow turn anxious energy into the motivation we need to get the work done that makes us anxious? In an ideal world, maybe.)

But I think this goes back to a post I made before about just allowing myself some time to just relax and recoup before getting back into being productive. I knew I was emotionally exhausted, and I knew working against that probably wouldn’t help me at all, yet I sat in front of my laptop and willed my exhausted mind to try and get something done, when all it wanted was just an hour (or two) to just relax. Most likely with some Sailor Moon (clearly), but at that point, it could have been anything that took me out of my own problems.

It’s not easy to go through a spike in negative motions and expect to make something positive out of it. While it’s not impossible, our brain can really only handle so much. I fully believe good, creative work can come from hardship (though it’s not always required), but I think it can be exceptionally more difficult when there’s still so much to process. It’s like how computers can go slower when you’re making it upload or download videos, or anything that requires the computer to have extra strain. You have to let it do it’s thing before it can process other things more effectively.

Instead of beating myself up about having to process things a specific way, maybe I should just roll with the punches. Give myself that time to make sure I can process other things more efficiently. I realize life doesn’t always the time to rest from emotional exhaustion before cranking out some hard work, but I think if I learn how to make it just a bit easier, I can allow some extra productivity to flow. I get such a rush when I finish a piece of writing, and I know that if I can regularly get more done, I’ll be less hard on myself about the times where I didn’t get anything done. It’s that idea of working with the things going on in your mind, rather than against them, that I feel really helps make getting work done much easier.

We have to process so much in a day, so we can’t possibly expect ourselves to do it all, all of the time. Emotional moments happen without warning, and it’s completely normal for that to throw us off of our groove. It’s also completely normal to want the time to decompress from the strain of those emotions. Rather than being hard on ourselves for taking time from the work we want to accomplish, maybe we should savor that time for rest, so that the work we do afterward can be the quality that we know we can achieve.

Finding Importance in Birthdays

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Photo by Andreas Weiland on Unsplash

This year’s birthday for me has been agonizing, mostly in a “oh god, what do I even do?” kind of way. I’m always that person who forgets that their birthday is coming up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very excited about it, but it’ll usually be just two weeks before my birthday before I think “oh shoot, my birthday is coming up.” It’s never a calculated effort, but always astonishment at how quickly it comes (go ahead and make your sex jokes).

This year is a little different, though. This year is the first one without my mom, which I think I’m prepared to deal with. I say “think” because you can’t actually know until it happens. She always wanted to do something to make my birthday feel special. She started hospice last year the week before my birthday, and with the chaos of her going in and out the emergency room due to the breast cancer causing intense pain in her gall bladder, my birthday sunk into the background of everyone’s minds. Though that summer was all about making sure she was okay, she made it a point to acknowledge that we hadn’t really talked about what to do for my birthday. We eventually decided to celebrate by having a nice breakfast out with my brother, sister-in-law, and aunt. It was something we kind of just threw together, but something we knew everyone would enjoy. I don’t even want to dive into the rabbit hole of thoughts about how she knew that it would be her last birthday with me, but I know that had to have contributed to why she made sure we celebrated it.

This year, I had to actually push myself to make it important. 

It’s not that I’ve never planned my own birthday event by myself, but this year has felt noticeably different when it came to thinking about it. Aside from the passing of my mom making this birthday one of those “firsts” that you inevitably have to experience after loved ones die, there have been other incidences around this year that have contributed to this birthday feeling like it’s not worth celebrating. I don’t want to go too much into detail about that specifically, but those events have made it feel like I’m just not worth the time or energy. I understand people have their priorities, and I wouldn’t want to make someone feel like they have to move me to the top if that’s just not possible, but it would just be nice to feel important.

I lost my mom, and thus, a person in my life who did her damn best to make special days of mine the most special. I realize I can’t always depend on others to be responsible for that, but it was nice to know there was at least one person who would go through all of the motions to make sure we celebrated it the way I wanted to. Maybe this is why I still value birthdays, so much, no matter whose it is. I think this is why I knew, even if I didn’t feel that I knew at first, that I should still celebrate it on my own terms.

I’m hoping what I decided to do distracts me from all of the depressing background noise around my 26th birthday. Even my therapist strongly suggested that I plan something, and made sure I left her office last week committing to making those plans over the weekend. I don’t know that I needed her to say that in order for me to actually plan something, but I do think it allowed me to give it the importance it needed by just sitting down and figuring it out (and even messaging a friend to bounce around some ideas). Once I got past the agony of not knowing what to do, I was finally excited about what was to come, and I’m glad I finally got to that point. Board games, food, and alcoholic beverages with friends sounds like the kind of cozy, but thrilling vibes I’ll need for this birthday. Thank goodness for all of the forces in my life that inspired these plans.

I want this birthday to feel important, because birthdays are important. You lived for another year! You were healthy enough to get another year experiencing life, and that’s a damn good gift. Not everyone gets to experience as many birthdays as they’d like. Some know when it will be their last, and some pass, not knowing that their last one was the grand finale. My mom spent her final birthday feeling depressed about not being able to walk anymore, and wishing her life would just end. I didn’t blame her, but it wasn’t the “happy birthday” that we all wished upon her. None of us knew that all of her happy birthdays had been spent, but that didn’t mean we’d just let it come and go without trying to make it brighter. I didn’t know how much that would pull me into feeling that my own birthday could feel just as meaningless, but I’m actively subverting this by making all of them count.

Make your birthdays happy while you can. Give them the life they deserve. No matter how many you have left, they’re always important enough to celebrate.

Sleeping With No Pants

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So you probably read the title and thought that this isn’t worth mentioning, whether it’s because it’s not enough, or because it’s too much. Either way, this is out there, now, which means that I said it despite the fact these opinions could have held me back, so that’s pretty cool. It’s like my confidence is growing, or something?

Speaking of confidence, that’s what the “sleeping with no pants” thing is improving!

You probably saw that I put out an article on Medium about my struggle with body image, and how someone’s comment about overweight bodies triggered some deep-seeded feelings I still have about my body. That’s a journey of mine that may ever end, and every day, I’m trying to find ways to subvert the views I have of my own body. It’s not easy, because more days than not, it seems like every gay on my Twitter feed is liking pictures of guys made entirely of abdominal muscles, while I continue to sit here with flab on belly. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with admiring abs or having a flabby belly, it’s just that I still feel like I need six-pack abs in order to gain some sort of attention. Consciously, I don’t care. Internally, I’m rife with anxiety.

Normally, when I’m around the house for extended periods of time, you’ll find me in a t-shirt and gym shorts. I’ve never lived alone until this last year, so wearing clothes around the house was necessary to not cause any discomfort with family or roommates. Now that I have the freedom to walk around the house in whatever the heck I feel like, the only judgment I could possibly receive being from a cat, I still dress the way I would if people were around. It’s like I have this idea that I need to hide my body, even from myself. I felt uneasy walking around the house without a shirt and some sort of pair of shorts/pants on, as if the extra exposure meant criticism about my body was heading my way. But…from who? My cat doesn’t give me a judgmental look for having no pants on around the house. Well, that I’ve seen, at least.

And it’s not like I’ve never been naked in front of someone else, or at least without pants. I’ve been with plenty of guys who have seen me with nothing on, and a few guys in particular who wanted to just be in each other’s company without pants on. It never felt weird to me then, and I keep wondering if maybe it was because there was an inherent interest in seeing my body simply for the sake of it? It also wasn’t my idea, though. I wouldn’t have suggested that we took our pants off just to sit there and watch Deadpool, but if I didn’t do it after they suggested it, I think I would have felt uncomfortable about not giving some sort of reciprocation. Sure, I appreciate that a guy I had feelings for gave me the space to do something that made me feel a bit more vulnerable (even though he may not have realized it), but I wonder if I only did it because I felt the situation called for it, more-so than me feeling like I genuinely wanted to.

After I got in the cycle of these thoughts, I thought about how this was such a simple way to feel more comfortable in my own body. Maybe it wasn’t my choice to take my pants off just to go to bed, but…what if it was? What if I gave myself the space to experience my body differently? What if I was the one who decided to see the way my legs look first thing in the morning? What if I work toward the confidence to maybe include taking my shirt off, too?

What if I did something that made me develop a relationship with my body that only I got to define?

Maybe you’re looking at this as something that’s not all that full of impact. “All you did is take your pants off and go to bed. Big whoop.” I know, I know. There are people who post pictures in their underwear to their millions of followers, while I’m merely making a section of my body more aware to myself. But you know what my therapist once told me? “If it was easy, you’d be doing it.” She didn’t tell me this about taking my clothes off, but she still said this golden piece of advice about mental obstacles, so you better believe it’s applicable!

It’s not easy for me to simply show off my body. It’s even harder to show it off and feel proud of it. I see people flaunt their bodies, and though I will say “I don’t think I could ever do that,” I say it with a tinge of guilt because I want to be able to do that. I want to be able to be proud of something that I have felt is ugly for a very long time.

If going to bed without pants on is a good first step to this, then dammit, I’m allowed to be proud about that.