Last year, I realized how terrible I am at asking other people questions. For some reason, maybe because I have always been so silent around new people, I never learnt to do it naturally. I want to. I love to listen. But I get scared. It feels like intruding. I overthink conversations to the point where there is no room for questions to grow.
That is one of the reasons I emailed three strangers, asking if I could interview them, before I had written a single word of this blog. It scared me, and it would force me to get this project started, so I did it. That is what I do to feel more like a real person – reaching out for challenges in the same shapes and sizes as my own missing parts.
Since I started this blog, writing has been harder than ever. I ask myself if there is any point in trying to help others when I can barely follow my own advice. I ask myself why I didn’t wait until I had accomplished something significant. Every Wednesday, I consider giving up, but I am sick of letting myself down. Sick of leaving projects unfinished. Sick of not fully enjoying my life as a freelancer.
I used to have too many dreams to choose from, but recently, they all seem to have been hiding. Some days I get inspired and work for thirteen hours and forget to eat or go to sleep, but too many days, the hours slip through my keyboard and nothing but a sigh comes out.
And that is exactly why I won’t give up. Because I need a place where I can challenge myself to finish something every week and let other people read it no matter how imperfect it is. A place where I can learn to ask better questions, overcome obstacles and fall in love with writing again. A place where I can learn as I go and share what I learn and improve the way I share it, little by little, week by week.