I found it hard to sleep last night.  Session 3 of my writing class left me with all kinds of interesting possibilities, and I couldn't wait to wake up and start working with them and writing.  Now as I sit in the car dealership waiting for my car, with all of the time in the world to write, I am avoiding it like the plague. I've wasted time sending e-mail.  I've even thought of doing the test for work I've been procrastinating about.  And now I'm blogging.  What am I avoiding?  And why am I so afraid?

I don't have to ask the question, I already know the answer.  My class is about transforming myself through my writing, and I have definitely been doing that.  I know that once I break down the walls there will be no more excuses, no reason not to continue on this journey.  I feel like I am ready for that, but obviously there is a part of me that is not.

Yesterday was an insecure, emotional day for me after reading the assignments of my writing classmates. Although I was very proud of my assignment, I started to panic and feel inferior after reading theirs.  I kept telling myself that their journey is not mine.  Their stories are not mine.  Even still, I felt the old drive to be the best kicking in.

I had a discussion with a friend the other night about seeking approval vs. feedback.  I realized I have spent my entire life searching for approval.  If I didn't get it, I would change myself so that I would.  Now I am at the stage of my life where I am on the cusp of letting go of the approval.  Of not caring what others think of me, not changing myself to conform to what others think I should be.  I'm realizing that part of my journey is to be true to myself.  The only approval that matters is my own.

I have a lot to learn about writing, and I want honest feedback so I can learn and grow.  At the same time, there is a part of me that feels like a failure if someone doesn't like what I've written.  If they have a suggestion then that means I've failed.  I haven't accomplished my lifelong goal of pleasing everyone.

Deep down, I know my writing will reach those that it's meant to.  Not everyone will like it or be touched by it, and some may not even understand it.  I was actually a bit shocked with the feedback on my piece in class last night.  It was all very positive, and the suggestions that were made gave me some great ideas for further growth.  Instead of feeling inferior I was actually excited; hence the reason I couldn't sleep.

I don't have anything left to do now but write my next assignment.  Part of me thinks if I take long enough to type this my car will be ready and I won't have to start.  I don't know what this resistance is, but I'm summoning up the courage to break through this wall.  First I need a cup of coffee, and then I need to find my sledgehammer.  This wall is coming down, but I need to write some graffiti on it first.

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