Perfectionism is killing my creativity

NOTE

This was originally published on Substack.

I haven’t written anything in months.

My brain immediately comes to a standstill. The words struggle to come out, and the keyboard feels foreign against my fingertips. The word processor is nearly blank, save for a few lines. The blinking cursor is ominous and insistent, like a ticking grandfather clock. I should be used to this by now.

After all, I’ve faced and fought the dreaded blank page since I was a teenage girl trying to pen “The Next Best Filipino Novel.” It was also my best friend as a Creative Writing major and, eventually, a writer slaving away in the corporate world.

Since I don’t write in my current job, writer’s block hasn’t visited me in a long time. It’s like an unwelcome guest who keeps pounding on the door—scary, frustrating, and impossible to ignore.

Most importantly, it’s a vicious reminder of why I didn’t want to get back to writing in the first place.

A creative spark

For weeks, I toyed with the idea of starting a newsletter here on Substack. Not really to grow a following, build a presence, or anything of the sort, but to hold myself accountable. The thought of publishing my writings online forces me to produce something half-decent. It doesn’t even matter if no one ends up reading my posts; they’re still out there for the whole world to see. And that’s more than enough to get me going.

Creative projects have always thrilled me; soon enough, I had a thousand ideas brewing in my head. I immediately set up a Notion page to plan everything, for one. I’d already come up with dozens of potential article titles. And whenever something vaguely interesting happened, I’d think of all the creative ways I could write about it.

While taking a shower or washing the dishes, I was suddenly bombarded with random thoughts that were too intriguing to let go of.

I’d ponder these ideas or scribble them down, then file them away safely for later use. While the ideas seemed perfect, I never bothered to sit down and write anything.

Weeks passed by without any progress. It seemed like my Substack newsletter would never see the light of day.

Just like how I’ve abandoned my previous writing projects.

Here’s how it typically went: I’d enthusiastically kick off my writing project, planning everything down to the smallest detail. If it’s a blog, for example, I’d have the information architecture and categories all figured out before drafting an article. I’d list all the topics I wanted to write about, brainstorming enough ideas to last me for months.

I applied the same attention to detail and organization to fictional works, whether for my eyes only or for something I planned to post somewhere. In my last attempt at writing a novel, I already knew how the story would end before wrapping up the first chapter.

I’ve also tried all sorts of platforms—Squidoo, Multiply, Blogger, WordPress, FanFiction, Tumblr, Medium, Reddit, LinkedIn, you name it. The same goes for writing apps and programs.

Despite everything, none of these writing projects still exists today. Not a single one.

Welcoming the unknown

As a perfectionist, I tend to get stuck in the planning phase. I never felt “ready” enough to proceed; there was always something else I had to iron out before moving to the next stage. I had to do more research on content marketing first. Paint a clearer picture of my target audience. Study more websites as references. Sharpen my writing voice. The list went on and on.

There’s also the fact that while my writing ideas were incredible in my head, I knew they’d be messy or even nonsensical when translated into words.

Not having the power to transform your ideas into something tangible, something you could be satisfied with, was frustrating. And let’s face it: consuming is much easier than creating. Even though I have things I want to say, it’s way simpler to distract myself with media and other people’s stories instead of voicing my own.

Finally, given how my previous writing projects went down, I had already concluded that this Substack project was silly and bound to fail. If so, why bother? My ideas would only be good inside my head and be nothing but self-important drivel when written down, so why put effort into it? These thoughts whirled in my brain for the past few weeks, paralyzing me into inaction.

But today, I’m embracing the uncomfortable.

Everything feels unfamiliar, scary, and exciting all at once. I don’t know where this will take me. I don’t even know what I’ll write about next.

But it doesn’t matter.

Today, I’m choosing to challenge myself—and finally show my perfectionism who’s boss.