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Checking one’s self in the most truthful way is vital for writers. Needless to say, writing has become one of the most sought methods to make our ends meet, to put food on the table, to pay our debts, and to make our lives easier.
I’ve been writing professionally for almost a decade. At first glance, it’s an accolade many people will see first. It’s like showing your trophies displayed on your glass cabinet, arranged in the array from the first award to the most recent one.
I Built My “Successful Writer” Facade To Fill The Void.
I couldn’t entirely blame myself for desiring to be accepted and to belong in a group of people or a community. Perhaps, it was my longing to be connected with someone other than my family and husband through shared interests.
I grew up without close friends. You know, a certain group of people will ask you how you are or will check on you years after graduation. At least, specific people who will want to hang out with me as a friend.
If it’s something you take for granted, think about it again. It’s not easy for me to make friends and maintain friendships for a long time. And even when they show sincerity, I developed an unhealthy habit of suspecting every person I meet with hidden motives towards me.
As a child, I was often set aside because of many reasons. Some of them exclaimed, “You’re too intelligent. I can’t be friends with you.” or, “You’re too unreachable to be my friend.” In extreme cases, they said, “I don’t like to be friends with someone with big boobs.” I was barely ten years old when I first heard that.
My parents locked me up inside the house to focus on studying my exams and daily quizzes, while children of my age enjoy, laugh, and chat with the rest of the peers.
At school, I was often ostracized by teachers and fellow classmates for being too shy and sensitive, for being fat, and for annoying them with “outside of the box” insights and inquiries that made me look weird in their eyes.
More often than not, I was forced to embrace silence for the sake of everyone’s benefit. I chose to keep my mouth shut for my safety, rather than asking questions to feed my curiosity and to learn new things as I desired. Above all, I learned that my need to be fulfilled by doing what is right for me isn’t necessary and invalid.
While other kids can easily engage and play, I couldn’t figure out how, as if it was a mystery that unfolded right in front of my eyes to such extent that making friends is like studying a difficult subject, a branch of science. I need a handful of hypotheses and theories to execute them and know the outcomes of each and validate which works and which not.
And because of my academic standing, I knew my classmates and schoolmates only make friends with me for their own benefit. I may have a thousand people around me, but neither of them I consider my friend. Because I knew they were only there for me to copy my assignments and exams, and to graduate without problems and with flying colors.
Of course, I chose to be blind and accepted the situation as they were for the sake of it. I tried to enjoy their company, although, at the back of my mind, I knew it’s a one-sided affection, full of distrust and hypervigilance. In my heart, I wanted to be truly connected with people for who I was, and not for what I was.
I Tried To Please You, But I Couldn’t Do It Any Longer.
It hurts me until now that I have to admit with you today, that I am indeed a people-pleaser to fill that void. And by showing you what I have achieved, my trophies, and my knowledge of writing, I can build a strong rapport with you.
It didn’t take long before I started to receive countless messages showing support in what I do and how they see me as an epitome of a “successful writer.” While it’s going on, I was scared that I would end up in the same situation again as I was years ago.
Little did the other writers know how terrible I have been feeling over the years, as I keep losing the Midas touch I once possessed, unable to write a single word.
It’s disheartening, at the same, concerning. And I often feel uncomfortable whenever I have to create a series of white lies to others for the sake of creating an image of myself the way people expect me to be.
I was scared of losing you.
It’s Been Seven Years of Shutting Myself Off As A Writer.
It’s been seven years. It’s been seven years of neglecting my creative side for the sake of writing for others and perfecting content writing in the way I see right, which is, in most cases, the best solution to increase my funds in my bank account.
It’s been almost a decade of refusal to tap into the neglected side of me, which brought grievous consequences in the end. While I strive to leave a positive lasting impression on others, regardless if one is a client or not, while my funds increase, my sorrow deepens as well.
Over the years, I have been asking myself why. Why am I doing this? Why did I end up losing myself as I write a piece of content, although it’s something I wanted to do in the first place? Why do I feel disheartened and confused whenever I write, though my heart is into writing, to begin with? What happened? What’s going on?
I Tried To Find Out Why & What I Lost As A Writer.
As I refused to sit in front of my PC to write a single word, I thought of doing something else entirely different from what I used to do for the past seven years. I tried to learn how to sew lingerie and re-designed my notebooks for my Etsy shop—the designs I have never tried.
If Doctor Faustus sold his soul to the devil for the sake of immense power, I sold my soul for the sake of money and fame, the two things one needs to attract more clients to work with me and pay me for my worth.
While I enjoy the learning process, I also thought of what keeps me going. At the back of my mind, I hoped that I could find the answer to my unsettlement towards writing. Weeks passed, I somehow found clarity to what I lost, as well as the truth of my inability to pursue writing.
It was the exhaustion of pleasing others in exchange for getting paid. If Doctor Faustus sold his soul to the devil for the sake of immense power, I sold my soul for the sake of money and fame, the two things one needs to attract more clients to work with me and pay me for my worth.
From nothing to earning $6,000 in a few months from a single client as a freelance writer is indeed a great accomplishment. Especially for a non-native English speaker like me. I could have rejoiced, but it wasn’t the feeling that was prevalent inside me. Rather, I was exhausted.
Writing Is Dancing The Tango.
When you seek writing as a way to make your ends meet, you’re dancing the tango with the wrong foot. And no matter how much you want to perfect that dance, if you only see dancing as a way to please others than yourself, or, if you only see dancing as a facade, you will never learn that dance for what it truly means.
Tango is a sensual dance with a man and woman showing abrupt body movements to express romance with utmost synchronicity. However, if both dancers don’t feel the same for each other and fail to grasp the essence of the dance per se, it’s better not to perform it at all.
Writing is like dancing the tango. It’s either you see yourself as one with your fingers and pen and paper, an instrument to express thoughts in words than your mouth in such perfection, or a financially motivating medium to express mediocrity of something or someone.
Without the heart, your heart, for it, I couldn’t agree more than seeing your writing and writing career as less valuable. If neglected, you unknowingly create your poison that will eventually kill you, piece by piece.
When sorrow fills your heart, it inhibits you from writing any piece of content the way you see fit. It prevents you from doing your best, too. And when it happens, you’ll see how your finances suck. You aren’t aligned with the goal you want to attract in the first place. You know, everybody knows how the Law of Attraction works, and I assume you understand what I mean.
Yet, you’re too occupied with seeking clients to find out what’s going on. You often find yourself asking, “Why can’t I attract clients to work with me?” “Why can’t I make writing a profitable source of income (anymore) or as I expected when I began?” or “What’s wrong with me?” without caring to ask the right question.
What’s actually going on?
It’s what happened to me as a freelance writer and probably it’s the same thing others have experienced a few times in their lives, while they try to embody that “success” in their lives and to keep the image and facade they’ve created for themselves for others to see, especially for their clients.
I’m Not Giving Up On Myself – Not This Time!
Although I’ve been in deep agony for a long time, I’m not giving up. I can make money writing online through other means.
Not only do I restrain myself as a freelance writer, but I can maximize my creativity and writing skills as an essayist or author. I can submit several pieces to several websites that pay higher or know what my stories are worth.
I write to express and share what I have in mind and heart, which has been difficult for me to do by mouth. And I don’t want to compromise that for the sake of money.
Deep down inside me is a child that longs to be connected, longs for a deep-rooted friendship, and longs for a sincere acceptance of who I am and not what I can do for you and for others.
The Best Way To Make Money Writing Online – The Healthier Way!
Learning how to monetize your writing skills based on who you truly are is a lifelong journey and certainly not limited to pleasing one client to the other.
You can make money writing online by submitting essays, poems, short stories, guest posts, and more. Freelance writing isn’t limited to applying for jobs on LinkedIn or Upwork. It’s just a pinkie of how your online presence can do with your God-given gift. So, if you think you’re getting nowhere in these methods, do your research. You might find something else better.
The fact is, you can do more than you think you are ought to do. You can write masterpieces without too much trimming for the sake of neck-strangling rules and painstaking SEO. You can be the best writer, a successful writer, without compromising who you truly are and refusing to acknowledge your present mental state.
I admire others who can cope with the speed and demand of profitable freelance writing. Though I have much respect for these people for showing undeniable determination and consistency to write for business for months and even years, though it’s enticing to do the same thing, I learn how to show respect for myself and my system how I write.
I guess it’s time to take a pause and listen to myself more. Writing shouldn’t be a dread for me but a source of positivity and optimism for tomorrow as it once did, albeit uncertainty. I also have to consider that “it takes two to tango.” It means without my heart on the piece I work on, I will never be fulfilled with what I do and what I will do.
Though my job says I have to write to earn money, it’s my prerogative to show a bit of respect towards how I truly write and produce pieces that mean a lot to me and inspire others. If I choose to do otherwise (again), it will not be a surprise that I’ll fall short and might later resent or rebuke my title as a writer anymore.
To end, becoming a successful writer is equal to learning how to dance the tango. Your heart and hand should be one. Your hand types in the words from your heart with an utter sense of freedom. They should be synchronized to make you truly happy and feel successful as a writer.
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