Fear is Your Companion, Not Your Enemy
Our POP writing philosophy stresses that if your writing isn’t personal and unmistakably unique, it’s forgettable. Why? Because emotions that aren’t communicated by the writer cannot be felt by the reader. If you’re not moved by your writing, don’t expect the reader to be either. Or, as Robert Frost said, “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader." We know that writing personally and honestly is the key to connecting with people, yet few of us do so because of fear.
You might fear being judged, exposed, or misunderstood. Will it be good enough? Will your work resonate? If you ruminate on these questions, you’ll stunt your creativity and become paralyzed in the face of fear. Instead of trying to avoid that feeling, embrace fear as an indicator of the importance of what you are about to share. Writing honestly and authentically means sharing despite fear. When you recognize how valuable your story is, anxiety turns into excitement, fear into confident resolve. So, in writing, the only way to overcome fear is to see it as your companion, not your enemy.
Personal writing doesn’t mean every piece needs to have a sappy confession. It means making yourself a character in everything you write, where you share your perspective and mark each piece with your fingerprint. Personal writing can earn you credibility with your reader. By inserting yourself into your writing, you answer questions your readers have, like “Why does this matter to you?” or “Why are you uniquely capable of writing on this topic?” If you make your writing personal, you will make it singular — distinct and memorable.
And if you want to relate to your readers’ emotions, get personal. You will uncover the universal through the personal, because we are more similar than we are different. Your readers have more in common with you than you think. They seek authenticity as much as you strive to provide it — it’s the whole point of writing, actually. (In a previous issue, we called this commitment to authenticity “holding up your half of the covenant.") The risk you take by subjecting yourself to readers’ criticism is met with the reward of forming true connections. Your readers are not mere passive recipients of your words; they are active seekers of wisdom, of solace, of understanding. They (too) yearn for connections, for the echoes of their own dreams, fears, and longings in what they read. To honor their search is to give them the complex truths they’re looking for, in words that bleed and breathe.
When you sense fear, remember: it’s a hint that what you’re about to say matters. No matter what your story is, there will always be a slight tinge of fear before hitting “Publish.” But when you can share despite this fear, you dissolve the thin line that separates reader from writer, spectator from creator. Think less of your fears, and trust that people will understand you, relate to you. When you speak the unspoken, you offer your reader a glimpse into the universal — through you.
