I'll Never Suck As Much As I Do Today
Reflections On Imperfection, Imposter Syndrome, and Lifelong Learning
This week, I’m hosting my very first writing workshop (virtually, of course).
I love all manner of workshops and classes in general. But I never realized how many I’d attended until I began preparing one of my own. As the notes from my previous classes began to pile in front of me I realized, “Holy crap. I’ve done a lot of these.”
That gave me the confidence and reassurance that, yes, I can totally run my own workshop. I’ve got this! No need to worry.
And then, because imposter syndrome is like that frenemy you’ve known since you were twelve, the voice creeped in, “But are you sure you’re qualified to do this? Who are you to run a workshop on writing? Maybe you should leave this to the REAL writers.”
That’s nonsense, I say, and shove my frenemy into the wall. Anyway, it’s too late now. We’ve announced the workshop, shared it all over socials, and already booked out 50% of the spots.
But the seed has been planted. What right do I have to do this?
I’m wondering this even as I reach out to friends and people in the community to organize a trial version of the workshop. I ask if they’d be willing to participate in a dry run and give us feedback on the exercises and flow. They graciously agree, and I get to work.
I want it to be perfect. I want to prove my frenemy voice wrong. I want to impress people. I hope that if I work hard enough, no one will realize that I really don’t know what I’m doing.
Before I know it, the night of the trial run arrives and it goes… okay.
It wasn’t disastrous, but it wasn’t great.
The workshop needed a lot of work. There were too many exercises, my friends told me. The themes lacked cohesion, the prompts were off, instructions were unclear. You name it. I took notes on their feedback, my pen scratching frantically against scraps of paper as the faces on Zoom flickered in front of me.
There was a lot that needed to be changed. At the end of our call, when the chatroom emptied out and my screen faded to black, I looked down at my heap of notes and I felt… disappointed.
Why should I be disappointed? I ask myself. This is the reason we did a trial run in the first place! Cut yourself some slack.
My brain says this, but my frenemy is screaming so loud I can’t hear anything else.
I pull out my journal, needing to give voice to whatever I’m feeling. I write down the first thing I can think of, and what emerges is a one line scribble.
I put my journal aside, turn off my desk light, and try to put my restless mind to sleep.
The next morning on my way to make coffee, my eye catches on the open page; large capital letters written in thick, inky blue:
“I will never suck as much as I do today.”
It takes me a hot sec, but eventually I laugh.
This is what came out of my tired brain at midnight, and it was actually kinda smart?
Criticism, rejection, and failure (however you define failing) are normal. These are part of the human experience, and part of the journey as a writer.
Yet how many aspiring writers do you know who are too afraid to share their writing with the world? How many people in your circle are even too afraid to put anything down on paper, even just for themselves?
We fear being less than perfect because we fear people will see right through us. What if they find out we’re flawed? What if they critique and criticize us? And what if, worst of all, their criticisms turn out to be true?
Well, I hate to break it to you friends, but you are flawed. We all are.
Instead of trying to be perfect, what if we shift our perspectives to accepting that we’re imperfect? What if we own it and reframe and try to be lifelong learners instead?
As long as you take meaningful steps to improve, you’ll always be better than what you are today.
Learn. Adapt. Grow.
It’s like stumbling upon something you wrote years ago. You read it and cringe because you know it’s awful. Today’s You would never use that many adverbs or exclamation marks! Present You can’t believe how naive and ill informed Past You used to be. This moment’s You is so much better now.
Learn. Adapt. Grow.
You will never suck again as much as you did back then. You will never suck as much as you do today.
You will always move forward and grow, as long as you keep moving forward and growing.
After our trial run, I gathered all the feedback and remade our writing workshop.
I simplified the exercises, cut out unnecessary prompts, expanded on certain areas, and removed certain sections altogether. The final workshop is so much better than what it was. And though it was uncomfortable to be critiqued and have some of my frenemy’s whisperings validated, the end result is worth it.
The workshop still isn’t perfect. It won’t win any awards. But it’s so much better than it was before. And I’m sure by next year, I’ll look back and realize just how much work still needs to be done.
But it’s still further from where I came. And for me, that’s enough.
Want To Write Together?
Join me for a writing workshop exploring Filipino identity on May 20th at 8PM (EST).
If you’re interested in writing with me (despite my imperfections!), I’d love you to join my first writing workshop with Cambio & Co.
Kindly note this workshop has been crafted for people of Filipino heritage, as we’ll be exploring our evolving relationships with our bodies, our families, our culture, and ourselves as Filipinos in the diaspora.