Lately, I’ve been having trouble writing.

I wrote that sentence an hour ago.

I don’t have writer’s block—I have writer’s anxiety. I love to write, I really do, but sometimes I just can’t.

I tried everything. White noise machines, giant cups of coffee, comfortable chairs, uncomfortable chairs. Nothing helped. At first, I thought it was because I was too distracted. So, I put away my phone and turned off Netflix, but I found myself still sitting in my chair, staring blankly at my computer. I finally realized the issue wasn’t one of concentration, rather one of confidence (or lack thereof). I was too afraid to produce mediocre work.

I’ve been trying to remedy that. I vowed to write for five minutes every day, even if that means sitting down and writing about the scruffy dog I saw on the subway or the mysterious puddle of street soup I saw on 6th Avenue. The writing might not be great, it might not even be good, but at least it’s something. The more I make myself sit down and just do it, the easier it is for me to do it well.

Does this blog post count as my five minutes? Just kidding.

Until next time, xoxo


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