I wrote this essay as part of Write of Passage, a cohort-based course for online writers I took part in October 2023. I published 4 essays over 5 weeks and learned a ton on the writing craft.
I should give up. I’m not meant to be a writer.
That’s how I felt writing this essay for Write of Passage. My original plan to publish on ‘First Draft Fridays’ was derailed because I got roped into a boxing match with my Impostor Syndrome (or Tyson as I like to call him).
What started as a light, technical spar with Tyson quickly escalated to biting down on my mouthpiece and throwing haymakers to survive. I thought I’d be able to predict his go-to weapon: the dependable jab-jab-cross, but I was dead wrong. He’s finally figured out how to throw it from multiple angles, and by the time I see it coming, I’m already asleep on the canvas.
Tyson is also coached by the best in the mental boxing biz: Mr. Not Good Enough, a trillion-time International World Champion of crushing hopes and dreams. Together, these guys are tough. I’ll give them that. I’ve spent more time procrastinating this week, doubting myself and deleting multiple drafts than ever. Not to mention, resisting the urge to bash my head into my keyboard!
I’ll admit, I chuckle at the thought of my Macbook Pro’s bloody keys ricocheting off the cramped walls of a hipster coffee shop, while accompanied by the feel-good tunes from a trending Spotify jazz playlist. Maybe I just need more coffee?
I’m supposed to come up with a Call To Action for this essay: something profound to make you pause, reflect and change your life. Like actually doing those 3 exercises your physiotherapist told you to do 1,000 times, and you’ve convinced yourself you’ll get to after your spaghetti dinner.
I don’t have a message of hope for you. Instead, in the spirit of sticking to the earlier themes around combat sports, I’d like to draw your attention to one of my favourite pro mixed martial artists, Dustin Poirier, and what he had to say about resilience when confronting danger.
I know going in there that it's a fight. And bad things are probably going to happen...I trust myself to find a way to persevere, find an opening, and just stay in there. I don't know. I just trust myself.
—Dustin Poirier on BMF Title, Legacy & More | UFC 291
That’s real. I can’t tell you how many times I felt like giving up this week, but I kept coming back to that quote. Hell, I even bought a corkboard from Amazon for $35.99 just so I could pin a sticky note on it that says: Do you trust yourself?
That is the fundamental question, isn’t it? Do you trust yourself? And I don’t mean that in some ‘The Secret’-esque, Kumbaya kind of way. It’s more like: Do you trust yourself enough to get out of your own damn way? To just ‘do the thing’ without having Bill Lumbergh from Office Space micromanage you and chime in with a “Yeah…if you could just do a better job, that would be great”.
Honestly, based on how the past week has unfolded, I’d say it’s mostly a No for me. I don’t trust myself, but I’m learning to, gradually. I wrote this essay in about 2 hours, and if you’re reading it, then I’ve finally published it online. Yes, I’m battered and bruised (and maybe slightly concussed), but I trust myself to continue writing, even if my corner wants to throw in the towel.
Everyone has their own Tyson. Maybe you’ve been through too many brawls to count with yours, but you’re still here. Aren’t you? I guess Rocky Balboa was right, it’s not about how hard you get hit, it's about how you can get hit and keep moving forward. So that’s what you’ll do: Keep moving forward, and you’ll trust yourself each time you step into that ring.