I never thought I would be writing a column for The Talon, but when last year’s anonymous columnist Faye asked me to continue her legacy, I agreed. 

I often have a hard time motivating myself to write even though I love writing for the paper. Going on my computer, opening a new doc and seeing nothing but a blinking cursor staring at me fills me with dread. To remedy this feeling, I close my screen and doom scroll for hours on end. 

It’s been like this since my freshman year. The anxiety gets to me, and I procrastinate to avoid my stupid fear of writing. This fear, to my disappointment, wasn’t a one-time thing. Every single time I opened a new doc, I would have to fight just to write a sentence down. 

I didn’t know where it came from until recently, when I talked to my therapist about my immense procrastination. My fear of writing stemmed from my dad. 

I feared my writing would never be enough to make my dad, who has an English master’s degree, proud. I feared I would be a disappointment to my father, who raised me to be a good writer — something I would never be. I feared his disappointment so much that I was blinded to a resource I’ve had my whole life. 

I only built up the courage to ask him during my junior year for my narrative essay. I didn’t know how to make my message clear enough to the reader, and I became so incredibly desperate that I sucked up my fear and asked him. To my surprise, instead of the disappointed face that I expected, he smiled. “This is a great start for your first draft, Sara!” he said. My anxiety dissipated almost immediately, though the adrenaline in my system still made me shake.

I could finally breathe. 

Slowly, with my dad’s reassurance and my newfound confidence, I began to write more and more. Not only for school, but for myself. My revived love of writing finally helped me figure out how to use words that fully encapsulate my identity. I wrote about my relationship with my parents, the struggles of growing up, my racial and sexual identity — who I am at the core. My narrative essay taught me that writing is more than just words on a screen; it’s a way to express who I am as a person, and to explain my identity in a way that others can understand.

So, the point of all this is simple: explore your fears. It’s cheesy, but by embracing your most unsettling discomforts, you can find enjoyment in the fears that once caused you to shy away from discovering your passions. 

May you find peace in the struggle,

Sara <3