Is it scary to have your personal essays published?

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Hello! Welcome to issue #1 of Ask Alexis—a new monthly Q&A column where I answer your questions in detail. Whether you're looking for real advice, a new perspective, or an absurd answer to a silly question, nothing is off limits here! Submit your questions here. Let’s have some fun! Note: You must be a newsletter subscriber to pick my brain. It’s 100% free! (For now.)

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Ask Alexis - Issue #1

“I’m also considering writing a personal essay—well, more of a performed essay for this live storytelling show. I have the perfect topic in response to their call for pitches, but I’m just not sure I can do it—it feels too vulnerable. Your pieces about your mom are so moving and personal. Do you feel like it is scary to share them with the world, or does it not feel that way? I am struggling to decide if I’m scared and that means I should do it (growth moment), or if my fears are justified and I should just hold off.”

—

Lindsey Smith

from

Not Normal

This photo I took of a half-eaten mandarin orange, reminds me of how it felt to write and share my first personal essay. First, you peel the skin, then you pull off and eat one slice at a time.

I felt ecstatic and scared shitless when HuffPost accepted my essay about tricking my mom into assisted living. Someone actually wants to publish my work, and it’s HuffPost???, I thought. But also, fuuuuuccccckkkk. I was freaking out.

OMG, this means my story will be out there in the world.

What if my family hates me for publishing it?

What if my friends think there’s something wrong with me?

What if I regret it and want to crawl into a hole and never come out again?

What if my professional network thinks I’m crazy?

What if my writing sucks?

I’m not a writer, I’m a fraud!

Lots of impostor syndrome was at play. Most of my fear came from being seen (like really seen) in a vulnerable state, not from actual danger.

I had a lot of self-doubt, but I pushed through it after a few pep talks from friends (and talking to myself in the shower, on my walk to work, when I should’ve been sleeping, etc., you get it). It was just fear of the unknown, showing vulnerability, of upsetting other people.

I think when you write personal essays, you kind of have to say “fuck it.” You might upset some people, but it’s your story to tell. If you’re hesitating, it might help to make a list of why you’re scared. What’s the worst-case scenario? If that thing happened, would it still be worth it? In hindsight, creating a list probably would have alleviated some of the anxiety and fear.

I also showed the draft to two girlfriends and my boyfriend for a final gut check before sending the final version to the editor at HuffPost.

To avoid a total meltdown, I didn’t share the published piece on social media immediately. I shared it slowly, first with the people who had read the draft. Then a few more friends, my dad and stepmom, and finally, my brother.

I was especially nervous about my brother’s reaction since he’s right here with me, going through the same experience. But I could tell he was proud of me. Being open about my feelings even made him feel more comfortable sharing his. It made me feel closer to him.

Once I shared the piece with close friends and family and realized they just wanted to support me, I felt brave enough to post it on Instagram. Some friends were confused about why I hadn’t already shared it more publicly, which made me realize that maybe my fear was a bit silly and that I should be proud of myself.

Everyone from my current circle to people I haven’t spoken to since high school was incredibly supportive. Some reached out to tell me they’re going through something similar, and one of my friends, whom I’m now calling my “super fan,” even printed out my essay and sent me a photo of it on her table. So cute.

This is how I’ve shared it on Instagram so far.

Strangely, having my story published on a website that reaches millions felt less scary than being seen by people who know me, but I’m so glad I pushed through the fear.

I feel lighter now. Like I’m being more true to myself. And less alone in this weird, long goodbye of losing my mom in slow motion. Constantly losing another part of her feels bonkers. When this is over, I’m going to be all grieved out.

Readers reached out via email and Instagram DMs. They thanked me for sharing my story and told me about their similar experiences. It was touching.

My dad and I talked about the piece on FaceTime, our eyes both a little damp. He’s going to write something about his parents and grandparents to share with me, so I can learn more about our family. I love that.

My stepmom asked if writing the essay was cathartic. It was. We even talked a bit about the creative process and how healing it can be.

My aunt (my mom’s younger sister) told me she’d be happy to explore the topics I wish I could discuss with my mom.

My cousins sent me “I love you” messages.

My friends told me I was brave.

So yes, it is scary to publish something personal. But in my case, all the good that came from it made it 100% worth it, and I can’t wait to do it again.

See you soon,

Alexis

Comments

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