Performance Anxiety
The more I try doing things for the sake of testing my creative abilities, the less authentic I feel about the act itself. Creativity is supposed to spawn naturally, I believe, and recently it feels like I’ve been encouraging myself to force it rather than allow its ways to flow freely.
When choosing my next read, I reach for the book that’s words will mean nothing to me, but are praised by others in the name of a subjectively underrated niche that only a select few think they truly understand. When styling an outfit, I feel the need to go for the combination that would maybe make me stand out, but ironically categorises me alongside others going for the same surface level projection of individualism through fashion. It is as if I am trying so hard to be what everyone is not, and at the end of the day I’m left feeling just like everyone else - performing for a crowd of visionless vessels too afraid to see life through their own colours, so they paint over their unique skies with the trendiest shade, hoping to impress the muted tones crowded around them.
I’m sometimes told that my writing style is too much, too metaphoric or analogical. When I water down my words, they are consumed faster and easier, but that is not what I strive to embody. I do not wish to please the majority by making my writing clear and straight to the point, I admire the wanderer of words and the curious nature that compels us to know more. For a long time I’ve felt the need to be accepted by the majority in order to feel understood, but now all I can say is FUCK THE MAJORITY! WHO CARES IF SOMEONE THINKS YOU’RE WRITING NONSENSE? IT WILL MAKE SENSE TO THE RIGHT PEOPLE!
I have to admit I am not the biggest fan of capitals, but that felt good. Condensing your writing in the hopes of being validated and acknowledged will always leave you feeling hollow, but shamelessly writing for yourself will leave you feeling like your tiring performance for acceptance has reached the moment for a much needed cigarette break. The same goes for what you wear, eat, read, enjoy doing, etc. The moment you decide to wear that belt that you know others will think is tacky but you LOVE, life will feel like being submerged in a bed of thornless flowers. The day you decide to pick up that book with the horrendous cover and plot of a 14 year old girl’s fantasies to read on the train (if you were there for the Wattpad era, you know), you’ll realise that the judgement coming from those observing your taste in literature stems from a deep-rooted loathing of the light-hearted easy reads we’ve been taught to detest as adults. Not everything you read, wear, think, say, and do, has to be taxed with your need for societal approval and recognition of fabricated uniqueness. People who are different don’t try to be, they don’t care enough to perform for those already performing for everyone else.
I’ve grown so tired of the underlying feeling I have to try and stand out beyond the boundaries of my personal foundations and distinctive outlook on everyday life. It is one thing to pretend to be someone you’re not, and its another to stretch out your skin and blind your eyes to mesh with people who lack the vision to see you for who you truly are, in all your colours and quirks that don’t deserve to be diluted with the water everyone is drinking.
♡
Published this on my Substack first ;) Find me at https://substack.com/@rachashaheen
