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by lateseptember

There was not a moment where I didn't believe I was lacking some kind of skill or feature to be creative. Creativity was something you were born with, like my brother was. From the early days of my life, I remember my brother having a strong imagination. Many stories and ideas formed their way out of his mind and were put on paper. Wherever he was, my brother always drew a fancy robot or whatever idea he had next. I loved, and still do, everything that he did over the years, and I couldn't be prouder of him for following his passions and for being creative throughout his life.

Though I am proud, there were many days filled with jealousy over my brother's abilities—of his creativity. What would I have given to be like him—to get praised for my talent and create beautiful things? Eventually, I learned that it wasn't necessarily talent my brother was gifted with; my brother "just" put an immense amount of effort into reaching the point he currently is at. But how could a person like me, filled with fears and insecurities, who had no opinions of their own and had nothing to say—to go even further—someone who was lazy and never fully committed—how could I ever be "talented"?

The praising part must have been immensely important for little me—even though it is difficult to admit, it probably still is. My actions seemed to be driven by the need for reassurance. Someone, please tell me I deserve to be breathing—that I matter at least a tiny bit. And so I started to draw, just like my brother. When I realized other kids were much better than me, I dropped my brushes, filled with shame.

At the same time, I started to understand that my opinions had no weight; they were just words finding no ear to willingly listen. My parents, mostly my father, showed some sense of dismissiveness towards me. His lack of compassion and appreciation gave me feelings of being unimportant or, all together, just worthless. Now that my legs were numbed, how could I ever achieve a thing?

It wasn't much better at school; people weren't so much a fan of my quiet nature, and my insecurities hindered me from building deep relationships. I lost count of the times when I felt helplessly invisible to the world. But that's when I found literature—the power of poems and writing. Was this finally the thing I was made for? It didn't take long for me to notice I wasn't the only one feeling this way about writing. Instead of connecting with these people, I just fell into another hole of emptiness and the longing to be special—the longing to be appreciated. Quickly, I thought I was miserable at what I was doing, and maybe I was, but it shouldn't have stopped me. Why didn't I try to become better? Why did I give up on what gave me joy and a sense of belonging?

Even though I took a liking to creative things, I had a hard time calling myself creative or accepting others linking it with me. In my eyes, I sucked at what I was doing; therefore, I didn't deserve to be called that way. It took me some years to finally understand that creativity doesn't automatically mean you are perfect at something; it doesn't necessarily solve your issue of feeling unloved and lonely, and it definitely doesn't help your confidence to compare your creativity with everyone's surrounding you.

Still, over time, my insecurities grew, slowly blocking away the bit of hope I had left in me. My only escape from feeling miserable was drowning myself in entertainment. It didn't matter if I just consumed all the time; I had nothing to offer—I lacked value. Nobody would care if I just wasted away, swimming in colorful screens. Surprisingly, my habits didn't help much in finding my lost self-value. But I'm at a place in life where I want to be able to enjoy whatever I'm doing without the feeling of horribly sucking at it.

It will probably take quite a while for me to say this, but I’m not ready to give up yet, though sometimes—actually a lot of the time—it is difficult to believe these words. How can I grow in my writing when I constantly think I don't deserve to use language to describe my inner thoughts and feelings? And so I question if writing just might not suit me. Maybe it is smarter to give up and essentially easier than trying over and over again. 

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24 Reviews

Points: 2190
Reviews: 24

Sat Oct 28, 2023 1:46 am
envy wrote a review...

this is extremely personal, but i relate to it on many levels. as a writer, i can even relate to your struggles on a deeper level.

personal narratives can be tricky to write, but they are very beneficial. self-reflection & self-critique are all parts of life. your own introspection here adds depth to the narrative itself. your vulnerability & honesty throughout shines through, which can be relatable on many levels for readers. of course, personal narratives should be primarily personal, but relatability is never a bad thing.

although i think you could further explore your journey to overcome your insecurities & find self-worth. offering insights into steps taken to address these issues would provide a deeper understanding of your personal growth & personal growth is the main theme here. more information never hurt anybody. i dont think you have too little, but more could help you out.

you have a good structure here. your flow is very smooth & you move seamlessly from one idea to the next. coherency is very important, so thats a very good thing to have. you remain consistent throughout.


User avatar
14 Reviews

Points: 36
Reviews: 14

Tue Oct 24, 2023 10:04 pm
Leya wrote a review...

Hello! :)

This is very deep and I applaud you for expressing yourself. Firstly, let me say, your writing is beautiful and flows magically. From what I'm reading, it seems as though you compare yourself to your brother a lot, and I'm guilty of doing the same thing. It's hard to live up to someone that you /think/ is more creative etc. But the great thing about writing, is that everyone does it differently, and that's what makes it an art form.

Think of it like the paper is your canvas (or computer xD) and your brain is the paintbrush. Just let your fingers do the work.

In this piece you made yourself very vulnerable and it takes a great (and self-aware) writer to put it on paper. If you enjoy it, continue doing it, and don't let your opinions and/or beliefs about others stop that.

Anyways, before I start babbling, this piece is all around relatable and I appreciate you sharing it with us.

With love, Leya

lateseptember says...

Hey Leya :)
Thank you so much for the review. It definitely took me courage to post this piece here, but I was sick of always hiding what I truly felt inside.
It makes me really happy that you like my writing style because I had a hard time not comparing it with the ones of others. And you are right, everyone has their own way of doing things. That doesn't make one way better than the rest.
I hope you have a great day/night!

Defeat has its lessons as well as victory.
— Pat Buchanan