Why I’m still pursuing my creative passions, even when it feels easier not to
For as long as I can remember, writing has been a constant in my life. I was always fascinated by how characters in shows would write in their journals about their lives and their feelings. This later evolved into awe at the way stories can paint mental images and elicit specific emotions and experiences, almost as if I fully experienced a life beyond mine.
I joined writing clubs and contests in school. I even managed to win a few and become the editor-in-chief of our school publication. In college, I took higher-level poetry classes despite them being completely unrelated to my psychology degree. I really felt like I could become the type of writer who would win awards and scholarships. I even considered shifting into creative writing at some point, but I ultimately opted against it. I loved writing, but the call of pursuing psychology with the hopes of becoming a therapist was stronger. I just told myself that surely, exploring the human psyche and learning about people’s lives would inevitably inspire more writing, right?
Eight years later, I am nowhere near where I thought I would be.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my line of work and I am very passionate about it. I love hearing people’s stories and helping them. My view of the world has definitely expanded, and my capacity to hold both the beauty and the horrors of life has grown. However, it would be a lie if I said that I am unbothered by the lack of creative outlets in my current life. I know I can write, I still journal, and I occasionally draw and paint, but whenever I pause to think about pursuing any of my creative passions, I almost always feel at a loss.
Not knowing where to start is hard. But never starting and spending your time wondering in regret is harder.
I know I want to. I just don’t know how or where to start. Or the idea of starting feels too daunting because the road ahead feels too long, and time has already passed me by. It’s paralyzing. The feeling would only root itself deeper in my chest. With the prevalence of doomscrolling and the addictive pull of never-ending feeds of short-form videos, it just becomes too easy to drown out the feeling and pretend like it’s simply a lost cause.
Whenever I do try, I become so overwhelmed with wondering if my writing is good enough. Will people like it? Is my technique good? All these small things end up drowning out why I fell in love with writing in the first place. It almost feels ironic because art and writing used to feel as natural as breathing. Now I feel like I have so much more to write about, and yet at times, writing almost feels like trying to breathe underwater.
In a few months, I’ll be 30. The weight of all the time I feel like I’ve wasted hangs heavy on my shoulders. I had not been able to hone any one of my many creative passions. All the stories left unexpressed and ideas left unrealized feel like a block in my throat. Now I’m at a turning point: do I keep letting that weight grow, or do I do something about it?
Not knowing where to start is hard. But never starting and spending your time wondering in regret is harder.
I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. In fact, I’ve met so many people with similar stories. I didn’t write this to brag about my childhood writing feats. Truly, I believe I have nothing to brag about there. Instead, this is me choosing to be intentional. If I want to get somewhere, I have to start somewhere. The road may be long and I may still feel the regret of not having started earlier, but time will pass me by anyway. I have no control over that. What I do have control over is what I do with that time. Will I spend it feeling frustrated that I’m not where I want to be? Or will I use that time learning and taking steps so I can be closer to where I actually want to be?
There is no guarantee about where this leads. Maybe people will read my work, or maybe they won’t. But I owe it to myself to try. It doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to be something. After all, something is better than nothing.
So this is me giving it a shot. And I hope that if anyone who reads this feels the same way, you’ll also be able to allow yourself to try.
