When I had my son, I got scared. I ended up with post natal depression and social anxiety. Two years after my sons birth I began doing things that terrified me.
The first step was joining a local writers group. The Springfield Writers Group is made up of the most incredibly supportive and wonderfully talented human beings. I feel very privileged, two years on, to be able to call many of them friends. With their friendship and support I have continued to push myself into being scared.
I submitted writing out in to the world. My mum blog quickly became filled with writing posts. That blog has now been taken down but I can see myself revisiting the same topics, or reposting many of them here in the future.
Even after a year, and half a dozen anthologies with my by line … I was still treading along the line toward staying safe.
There are definitely times in our life where being safe is necessary and vital. Grabbing your dreams and turning them into life goals is definitely not that time.
But 2020 lulled me into a false sense of it’s ok to not push yourself. And for a while it was true. I got pneumonia and was tested several times for COVID-19. It took me six months to recover and then another month to realise that my comfort zone had shrunk once more and the mere idea of heading out in the car would send a cold shiver over my skin.
It wasn’t just one thing that finally pushed me to start scaring myself again. It was many little steps, many little wins, a few loses, and the constant and wonderful support of my partner, son, and incredible family, both blood and not.
The fear has pushed me to places I never thought I would be, to do things I never thought myself capable, able, or smart enough to do. When I get scared about something to do with promoting myself or getting my writing out in to the world I know I’m on the right track. The scariest thing I’ve done is to take myself seriously, as a writer.
So with the fear of discovering that maybe I’m not that smart or talented, I began researching writing: reading about it, learning what I could from books, people, and podcasts. And what has surprised me is the confidence I am gaining (regaining?) in myself, not just as a writer but as a human.
I’m working on a series of novellas for an overseas publisher, and am in the final editing stages with another publisher who is putting my first novella, Cold As Hell, out in to the world. I have also created the Les Fiction Book Club and been bravely contacting authors. I’ve put what money I can into pushing my writing career into gear, including self publishing a poetry collaboration, Forgiving Reflections.
I’m proud of what I’ve achieved and what I still aim to achieve. I’ve rarely said proud about myself, and never before without a warm cheeked shudder.
So fear is not always bad. Instead of shaking my head at steps that others suggest, I’m moving forward, at my own pace, and in a direction that while it might scare me, also feels right for me. Because you don’t have to move fast, or in someone else’s footsteps, you just have to move forward.