This past spring I took a writing course. It had the amazingly succinct, yet perfectly spot-on title of “Write Anyway,” subtitle: “don’t let the bastards get you down.”
I mean, it’s perfect, right?
It turned out that Write Anyway was about way more than just writing. Because during the course and since then, I‘ve ended up taking the messages and philosophy of the course and applying them not only with my prose, but also in my life.
See, I’ve led a life that was, up until this point (and excusing maybe those first 5-6 years of life when all children are entirely self-motivated because, you know, survival and all that), one where I prioritized everyone else’s needs and wishes before addressing my own. It’s been one where I constantly second guessed myself, felt anxious about even the tiniest decisions, and intentionally kept things private because I feared criticism, embarrassment, and a sense of failure.
But I’m learning some new things now, and I’m trying some new things now too, so I took a leap and signed up for the writing course. In doing so, I challenged myself to be vulnerable and authentic and, you know, kind of, sort of legit with my writing and with myself.
Somehow it ended up feeling like participating in Write Anyway became the pinnacle of all the hard work I’ve been doing! It was like the icing on the top of a massive, multi-tiered cake I’ve been building these last few years. Like, I’m imagining that I’ve been adding layer after delicious layer of what is the most mouth-watering cake ever created. In my mind, this cake is a decadent dark chocolate and sits at least 7 tiers high. Each layer represents a momentous benchmark I’ve achieved:
Layer 1: Ending my marriage (hallelujah!).
Layer 2: Getting a mental health diagnosis and starting treatment.
Layer 3: Finding the right psychiatric meds to be on (this took sooooooo long and was sooooooo effing difficult).
Layer 4: Beginning therapy with some amazing counsellors and seeing/feeling real, authentic progress.
Layer 5: Buying my own home out in the most beautiful goddamn place and knowing that I don’t ever have to move again (can I get an amen?!).
Layer 6: Getting my first real job in almost a decade.
Layer 7: Calling myself a writer and signing up for “Write Anyway.”
Icing: Participating in said writing course (and giving it every ounce of effort and energy I could muster!).
Sprinkles (of course there are sprinkles!): Launching head/strong, sharing my story, and taking the leap into being a legit writer/blogger.
In between each of these layers would be the richest, creamiest, dark chocolate ganache, which cements everything together and makes sure that this cake doesn’t crumble or fall. Or maybe it would be custard. Or raspberry jam. Or strawberry! Mmmmmm…
Okay, okay, I’ll quit it with the cake analogy… it’s making me quite hungry, actually… The point I’m trying to make with my appetite-inducing dessert comparison is that I now finally have the confidence and the energy to just fucking WRITE ANYWAY in every single part of my life! (As in the literal sense of writing down words and in the metaphorical sense of, “we all write our own life stories.”)
I can write my own life and while I sometimes feel pangs for the life I thought I would have, or regret the words I thought I could have written better, I’m forging ahead and showing up and I’m living and writing the fuck anyway!
So thank you to Janelle Hanchett of Renegade Mothering who taught the writing course, and to the incredible and engaging women who took Write Anyway with me! Thank you for putting the icing on the cake of my accomplishments and pushing me that little bit further so I can show up and be present in my life.
I feel charged, I feel competent, I feel like taking some risks. And I know that’s the key to succeeding in life: you show up, you do your best, and you keep going even when the icing starts to melt, or someone’s stuck their thumb into the cake and fucked things up a bit.
Isn’t it amazing that life can be so delicious, even when it seems like it’s also full of shit?