I don’t like this, but I said I’d do it.

It’s frustrating for me to feel such discomfort when sharing my writing on this blog. I can throw together a half-assed thought in less than 280 characters, tweet it out without hesitation or proofreading, then completely forget about it a minute later. But piecing together my fragmented thoughts into a lengthy blog post that represents me as a writer? I’d rather have teeth pulled without anesthesia. 

According to my iPhone’s Screen Time, I spent nearly 2 hours a day on Twitter last week. To be fair, Twitter is where I read the news, keep up with recent memes, and get the latest celebrity gossip. But, it’s also a place of comfort for me where I can rant, throw myself a pity party, and test out my latest dad jokes. 

While I did write more than usual last week, I intended to post my writing at least one or two more times on here but ultimately didn’t publish anything. To me, what I wrote wasn’t good enough. Whether that’s true or not is beside the point. Clearly, blogging is harder for me than shitposting on Twitter. Y tho?

The way I see it, when you post on social media, you’re essentially talking to yourself until someone interacts with or replies to what you wrote. It feels like I’m just shouting into a black hole, so the stakes are really low for me. Contrarily, I view my writing here as a sample of my art, which significantly raises the stakes. 

I don’t know when it will get more comfortable for me to publish my writing. Still, I’m proud to do it again despite the agony I put myself through in preparation. 

Published by Debra Beatty


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