Looking back in time,
where writing was so much easier, I only wish I could be the old “not so
self-conscious” me. That was the time I wrote only for myself and that pressure
of my write-up being appreciated by the public did not exist. I used to finish
a story, re-read a few times and was satisfied with whatever little creativity
my brain had come up with. And as I grew, grew the audience; friends noticed my
scribbles and I was encouraged to change the privacy settings of my blog to:
Public!
Now guess what was
the first thing that happened after the stories I wrote were no longer a
secret? Well! I started reading them with someone else’s perspective, and I didn’t
like them like before. I thought they were mediocre and nothing to boast on a
social platform. So I took my posts off the net (I have them in hardcopy, not
much lost). I started reading a lot to improvise my imagination, to build a
fancy vocabulary (which I don’t have till date) and to write in a way that
attracted greater social applause. Reading others made it more hopeless, “there
are so many of them, all better writers, nobody will like what I write” is a
summary of what went in my head. And that’s when I lost me. I wrote little,
decorated with whatever I found was trending and posted only after couple of
people had approved of it. Since then I have been trying to come out of the
lust to impress people (not ONLY because I failed at it).
So why am I writing
this? Because I believe I am not the only one who went through this. Anybody
can write, everyone must write, it’s a stress-buster and clears your head like
nothing else can. Write for yourself, and if you seek for appreciation, one day
you will find the right audience (Me motivating me).
