“It’s not that big of a deal, anyone could do it.”
“I mean, it wasn’t hard…”
“Nothing I do is really that unique.”
I have all of these thoughts on the regular. About my work, daily tasks, anything I can downplay…I will. This is not a mental practice I want to keep engaging in.
The truth is, yes, anyone off the street can write a blog post—but can they write a professional-standard blog post in less than an hour?
Can just any random passerby consume a piece of media and produce a polished piece of content while also keeping in mind brand voice, style guides, specific client preferences, briefs, and objectives, and then rinse and repeat as needed for multiple different voices?
Can they take a concept and create a whole world from it in one afternoon?
Probably not.
Maybe someone could write a professional piece with no previous experience if given enough time, sure. But it would not be a sustainable or realistic pace in the professional writing world.
Anyone can write—but writing is not only about getting words into a document in a semi-cohesive order. It’s about understanding. Conveying. Relating. Connecting.
Each blog, piece of content, or story is a puzzle that clicks together. And like any puzzle, it starts as a pile of disjointed shapes. You know they fit together somehow, but that how is not always clear—it’s your job to figure it out.
Digesting abstract or sometimes vague source material and turning it into a clear and concise piece of content takes some mental gymnastics sometimes. It takes practice.
Doing so is a skill. Yes, anyone could learn it. But many don’t.
Today I’m taking a moment to acknowledge that even though my work right now is not the sexiest or the coolest, it has still taken me years to hone, and I’m not even close to reaching my full potential.
People sometimes make the mistake of thinking since I love writing so much, it hasn’t been a struggle to carve a career in that space; that it must come naturally to me.
Nope.
I have written almost every day for nearly 12 years and counting—roughly 4,383 days. And when I wasn’t physically writing, I was thinking about writing. I can tell you with complete confidence that I did not feel like writing all 4,383 of those days. I did anyway.
Yes. I have a passion for it. But it is also an intense and demanding skill to curate, nurture, and maintain. I did not emerge from the womb with a pencil and impeccable grammar. Far from it, my mom can tell you, she’s the one who had to teach me to read and spell, God bless.
Everyone’s writing journey is different. I’m not about to say that everyone who wants to write professionally needs to do so for 4,383 days to improve.
Some need less time, some start later, and some start even earlier. That’s neither here nor there. The point is no amount of natural inclination can provide a sustainable skill that carries into a profession without dedication.
Even the most gifted writer needs to work at their craft or it will stagnate.
So when I hear myself thinking, “It wasn’t that hard…” I want to also remind myself of why it wasn’t hard: because I’ve worked very hard to make it not hard.
I need to remember there was a time when it was hard. The task didn’t suddenly decrease in complexity—I increased in ability.
It’s not prideful to recognize that truth.
Of course, this doesn’t mean I don’t still struggle some days. Accepting challenges is another ingredient for growth. If you don’t have any challenges, you’re not growing.
Even now I’m tempted to start downplaying things again—it’s probably easier for someone else, they can probably do a better job, I still have so much to learn, etc., etc. All of those things can be true and it does not take away from what I’ve accomplished so far.
The nagging voice in the back of my mind still sneers, “All those days and all this time, and this is all you have to show for it??” but I do not have to listen to that voice. I know I’m still only just getting started. That’s okay.
I’m not the only one to struggle with these feelings, and it’s not only writers. If you’ve been feeling this way about your craft lately, this is your reminder to breathe, acknowledge the sacrifices you’ve made to be where you are, and appreciate your abilities.
I know the next 4,383 days (and beyond) will stretch me even more, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Three cheers for all we’ve done and all we’ve yet to do, folks!
And, thank you for reading—after all, you can’t have writing without reading.
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