You are enough

So, I feel so nervous as I try put together the words to open this, thought.

Learning is curious. It really is a challenge of language - learning the new bounds of words and context. So, yet again, I find myself in a new environment. I don't quite recall an environment much like this. Neither high school nor university were like this.  Then, the learning format was clear. Now, it feels as though it wants to be found.

I have been greatly missing this space - the outlet. Being understood has not always been my strong point. I suppose at some point, a thought occurred, 'explain yourself and you'll be understood'. Finding the words can be tough. I fear I will find myself attempting to iterate a single concept in a sea of words.

I'll be honest, I am not sure what I am doing but, I am trying. All I hope is if I just keep typing, something will happen. The words will arrive if I let them arrive. However, I find myself, nervous. I do not know how to express the way I feel beyond simply saying, I am trying. I'm trying.

A few weeks ago, I did something that would impress even the current version of myself. Not only did I write something but, I published it. The scary part is, it didn't completely suck. I received positive feedback. I did something, and people liked it. Not just people but, people I know, people I care about. People I respect, whose opinions I value. People who I love. People who I am grateful for.

Now, here I am, in a new place, with new tasks, new people. New. All of it new, and the truth is, I'm not sure if there has ever been a time when there has been no new. However, this feeling, this 'nervousness', it seems to continue to find new ways to be new. Every first day feels like every first day and I suppose at the core of it, every day is always the first. So, why does it take so many words to try and get a point across. Why is the distance between here and there not now?

So, I suppose I am here to say trying is hard but all one can do is just that.

I am so nervous that the positive feedback will be far to reach. I do not want to allow myself to imagine that it is not possible. Why should I live in the torment of not being able to be. Why should I hang my life on the fear of not being likeable. It is so scary and it simply is not nice. I am so nervous as I write this but apparently it is better to write about writers' block than to not write at all.

Some months after I graduated, feeling so disconnect from what was supposed to be my passion, I thought 'I should have just drawn something every day, that way, I would have more to draw from'. I don't want to have any more hanging thoughts. Any more what ifs. I want to learn to let go, to understand what is in my control, and what it not.

As much as the voice in my head echoes, it has never impacted the words that come out of another person's mouth. So, I am nervous. I can only do as I do and wait for a response.

So, I write this because, sometimes, things just need to get done. As I 'settle' into my new environment, I feel, feelings. Unfortunately, at this moment, I struggle to find the words to articulate what it is that I feel. I'm nervous, yes, but in the mornings, I am filled with excitement. Rising with the sun to catch the new day.

When I started this project, I did not expect it be become what it is today. I thought I would edit some slides and move on. Now, I have discussions about 'my work'. I have something I ‘do’. It's strange. This time last year, I likely would not have believed you if you told me I would be where I am today.

I apologise for the vagueness in my writing but, it's intentional. This is not the first time I have been in this state of feeling and I know it will not be last. I suppose there is some comfort in that, in knowing that this feeling will find a way to be new again, so, if I keep trying, I know I will find myself further down a page making it closer to the end of the thought. If I keep trying, I will simply get closer. 

I'm not even sure what I'm so nervous about. My cousin and I often like to remind each other that the worst that could happen is nothing. Doing nothing is so much worse, I toss and turn all night torturing myself over nothing. Thoughts swirl over my head doing nothing for me.  

I am not a writer but, I am certain, if I just allow myself to fail, to let go, something will happen.

This is not the format I thought this would take. Though, this is the format it will be taking. I am not perfect, I am still learning. I do not want to spend another night where I feel this hanging thought of not having done this. I will do it and face the reality of having done the scary thing rather than spending my night in the mares of not having done the scary thing.

So, here’s to trying.