an overachiever's rumination

the duality of being a creative, perfectionist and overachiever = doing things is messy and we often crave praise and approval even in our insecurity

I’ve always been a reluctant creator and consumer. In my art, in my writing, in reading, in photography, in music. I second guess myself to the point of talking myself out of doing the thing I love and am proud of, mostly because of fear of rejection or worry that it’s never up to par. My motto to myself during my teenage years was ‘there’s always someone slightly better’, and it was enough for me to not share my input in a conversation I know that I had valid thoughts and experiences about for fear of looking stupid.

Normally a quiet observer, sitting in the back or listening more than talking in a group conversation until I’ve carefully dissected what I’ll say; watching people move through life who are unafraid of being the loudest in the room or of voicing their shameless thoughts to the world never second-guessing their actions or words, because, well, they lead with vim – or so I often thought (and sometimes still do).

I say I’m a reluctant creator because so much of my art and what I create, what I read, what I watch, I feel is a part of the formation of me and often I’m too embarrassed to share the depths of how much different art mediums have changed and shifted my being enormously.

How do you seriously tell people that you watch Shrek on repeat and love it fiercely because you wholeheartedly feel it’s a piece of art that teaches us to embrace the other, and shows those of us that sit outside the margins of society that we don’t have to conform because we’re expected to; that we can live our lives, do our best and despite there being people that may not agree with or like your being, it doesn’t mean you have to listen to them (or that you won’t be affected by them), but you can still move through the world as your authentic self and you will find your people, even if your chosen family and state of existing doesn’t make sense to the rest of the world?

Aha, yeah, exactly, see what I mean? The art I consume and my own art are things I’ve held close to my chest for a long time because of the sheer emotion and energy that comes with intentionally consuming them and making them leaves me feeling exposed, raw and honestly, slightly rejected when what I’ve created doesn’t receive the acclamation I deeply desire or expected it to. I pick it apart and get really bogged down because, the thing with being an overachiever and perfectionist is that no one often sees the emotional and mental turmoil and effort it’s taken for you to even get the thing done.

In a world where we expect those of us that are creative beings to create constantly and continuously churn out ‘content’, we don’t leave much room to celebrate the small, quiet victories of the creator, or the behind the scenes struggle and mundanity of the process and what it took to create the thing we applaud before thirsting for more.

And I’ll be honest here, I love seeing the end product, it’s the reason I have less patience with creating art, the reason why I’ve found it hard to return to the piano amidst constant vocal verbiage of playing again. I desire to have the product without having to do the work, because I lack the energy and patience and all the time in the world that I once had in my teen years and early twenties. I’m just about reaching my mid-twenties, and I was not prepared for the amount of effort life is when you don’t have anyone constantly guiding you and propelling you forward.

Everything takes a little more effort, and sometimes staring at the kettle boiling, scooping coffee grounds into a cafetiere and pouring boiled water onto the grounded coffee beans, to patiently watch the process of coffee brewing and realising you simply have to wait to create have this glorious beverage be made, can bring you to tears at 8.16am, of the reality of having to go through yet another day and not knowing how to bring yourself out of the wormhole that you’ve unintentionally created for yourself.

And I’ve been unfolding this side of myself. Slowly opening up my curled fists that expect so much from others and myself. In my unfolding, the gentle and painful untangling of this life I’ve unintentionally curated for myself out of survival, I’ve noticed how much time I spend beating myself up for simply existing and failing to achieve goals I once set for myself. It’s that thing of getting use to disappointing yourself because, well, only you see the failure and it’s easier to move through life that way. In my exploration of better understanding how to unfold, curate and exist in a life that I’ve intentionally curated, through conversation, art, music, film and video, I realised that so much of my life has been goal-orientated; that I haven’t spent time getting to know myself outside of my achievements. So much of what I thought was cultivating time with myself, setting boundaries for myself and being an introvert was webbed into the drive to do more and be more, even though it goes against so much of what I believe and against so much of the life I see and want for myself.

Many of these conversations and consumptions of art have led me to a deep desire to do better for myself because when you learn to lead a life based on impressing yourself and guiding your being with intentionality, it often leads to more openness and grace for yourself in ways you may never be willing to be open or gracious to yourself. It’s led to the realisation that I create much of my art for myself and less for others, that the warmth I get from creating a piece and doing something I thought I could never replicate to further understand my own perception of the world. Many of the things I create come out of me unintentionally because even in my reluctance, the deepest part of me knew that I needed that space to be uninhibited and free in my expression, without judgement.

And the best thing about sharing my art, anything I create, is that in grounding myself to be ok with not receiving outside praise, the art never being seen, I learn to create for myself, to take time to really know if I love what has been made and to be ok with making something bad or good that may never see the light of the day, but has my own approval in knowing that I showed up even when it was tough to do so.

The bonus is hearing from others how deeply what I’ve made has touched them, the way their face lights up when they see my art for the first time. It’s priceless and I’m learning it’s ok to revel in that and be ok with hearing other’s thoughts and feedback on the parts of me I’ve reluctantly shared with the world. I’m not going to say that I don’t still find it hard to not make art for approval or to be seen because sometimes I do. I’m still learning and it’s the duality of being human where we’re still figuring out our process and understanding so much of who we are, it’s messy and it’s never always straightforward, and that’s ok.

I’m still figuring this out. How to be ok with sharing and not receiving the acclamation or love despite knowing that I am good at what I do, whilst also knowing that it doesn’t always mean that I won’t be rewarded for the things I create or won’t receive the recognition I want. Sometimes, oftentimes, it can just be.

I can just be, without expecting to receive praise, because so much of life is what we do in the quiet, when no one is watching.

And so much of that for me is ruminating, creating and gathering knowledge, and knowing that in that, I can be content.