I have a confession for you this week: I’ve been letting fear get the better of me for the last several months.

You may have noticed that all of my Write Now podcast episodes since May 2021 have been interviews with other (amazing and brilliant!) writers and creators, not the usual monologues. This is because I have been literally too scared to record a normal episode.

That’s right — too scared to create. Silly, isn’t it? (Or perhaps even pathetic?) But every time I think about recording a Write Now podcast episode, I just start to panic. My mind races and I think, “I don’t have anything to say,” or “I don’t have anything of value to say,” or “I’m not an expert on that topic,” or “I don’t have the authority to teach anyone anything,” or “I already talked about this topic back in 2016,” or “What I say/think doesn’t matter,” or a million other negative / imposter syndrome-y thoughts. 

… And I fully realize how ridiculous this sounds, especially now that I’m typing it out. I mean, obviously, I have things to say — everyone does! — , and even if I talked about a topic four years ago, chances are I’ve learned and grown since then, or changed my mind completely. 

But when I set this logic against my fear, the fear continues to win out.

I haven’t recorded or released a solo podcast episode since May 13 and that really, really bothers me. It’s been sending a low-key anxiety through my heart since then. I want to create new episodes of the Write Now podcast. I’m just… too afraid to.

And here’s the kicker — I haven’t fought against this fear as hard as possible because, in a way, I feel like it is keeping me safe. 

I haven’t taken out my microphone to record because it feels safer not to. If I don’t record a new solo episode of the Write Now podcast, no one can call me out on unoriginal ideas or imperfect advice. No one will realize what an enormous imposter I am. I won’t realize that I have nothing to say if I don’t open my mouth in the first place, if I stop myself before I start. 

Stopping is safe. Hiding is safe. Not-creating is safe. 

But… I also realize that safe is not satisfying. And the active choice of not creating, of ignoring the microphone on my desk, is making me increasingly anxious and sick and desperate. I need to speak and write and create to feel alive. To be myself. To exist.

And to deny this in service of fear/safety is actively harmful.

So I think here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to record a Write Now podcast episode on this topic — on the topic of being too afraid to create. I’m going to poke and prod at this fear with the knowledge that I’ve faced it before and I will continue to face it — as Jon Acuff says, “Fear is not a dragon to be slain once; it’s an ocean to be swum daily.”

Getting into the water day after day is hard. Building habits around it can help. But we still need to decide, every day, to get in. Some days it’s hard — we don’t have the energy to dive in, or we are too sick or tired to muster the willpower. Sometimes we give in to what’s easier instead of what we need to do to flourish and thrive. We are, after all, only human.

We need to give ourselves grace, and continue to push ourselves to learn and grow and create. It’s a delicate balance that I am willing to admit I haven’t quite figured out yet.

But I’m gonna continue to try.

Words & warmth,

Sarah