Self-sabotage - Why Would We?
As those of you know who have been working through the Artist's Way with me, you tend to uncover things about yourself that you don't recognize. I had hoped to figure out why I was stuck, and not being creative. This last week, I had a bit of a breakthrough. I've suspected it about myself, but hadn't realized to the extent that I do it. I am a sabateur (sp?). I am terrified of success. So terrified, that I quit before I can fail, and never even give myself a chance to succeed. I've done it over and over throughout my life.
For instance, when I spent a summer in Wisconsin, I was surrounded by natural athletes. I am not athletic at all. We would go boating on weekends, and waterskiing was a must for everyone. My friends - and their friends - were avid skiiers. Accomplished. They knew what they were doing, and they were good at it. And there I was, unable to even swim well. They encouraged me, offered to teach me, and I found myself strapped in a lifejacket (you know, those things always remind me of straightjackets) with skiis poking up in front of me, as I held onto a rope and bobbed helplessly in the water. I was terrified. Not about the skiing itself, but about what my friends would think. I knew I would be awkward. I knew they would laugh. So I bailed. Over and over. I would get nearly to my feet, and I would drop the rope. It was easier to fail than to really try and risk failing spectactularly.
I am afraid now. I got a taste of success when Denim & Diamonds was released. It was exhilirating. Easily the proudest times of my life. But I haven't done anything since. I sent out a few queries, got a few rejections. And quit. I haven't written anything new in some time now. My next novel is still sitting on my hard drive, waiting to be . . . what? read? published? My next book is darker than Denim & Diamonds is. What if I disappoint people? What if people read it and hate it? What if no publisher ever wants to publish it? What if it does get published, and no one buys it? What if it gets bad reviews? It is easier for me to sit here and say "I'm a writer" than to take the risk that others will think I'm a bad writer.
So, what do I do about it? I'm going to get some more query letters out this week. Just because a handful of agents rejected me does not mean that I stop. I need to go on. There is a quote from Edison that I like - something like, "Most people stop trying just when they are on the verge of succeeding." I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to be the person who takes risks, and reaps the benefits of those risks.
As you know, I now will ask something of you. Take a look at your Morning Pages. Think about your life. Who you were. Who you are. Are you afraid of success? Are you afraid of failure? Do you sabotage yourself? If so, what do you gain by doing that?
Happy delving,
Elle
For instance, when I spent a summer in Wisconsin, I was surrounded by natural athletes. I am not athletic at all. We would go boating on weekends, and waterskiing was a must for everyone. My friends - and their friends - were avid skiiers. Accomplished. They knew what they were doing, and they were good at it. And there I was, unable to even swim well. They encouraged me, offered to teach me, and I found myself strapped in a lifejacket (you know, those things always remind me of straightjackets) with skiis poking up in front of me, as I held onto a rope and bobbed helplessly in the water. I was terrified. Not about the skiing itself, but about what my friends would think. I knew I would be awkward. I knew they would laugh. So I bailed. Over and over. I would get nearly to my feet, and I would drop the rope. It was easier to fail than to really try and risk failing spectactularly.
I am afraid now. I got a taste of success when Denim & Diamonds was released. It was exhilirating. Easily the proudest times of my life. But I haven't done anything since. I sent out a few queries, got a few rejections. And quit. I haven't written anything new in some time now. My next novel is still sitting on my hard drive, waiting to be . . . what? read? published? My next book is darker than Denim & Diamonds is. What if I disappoint people? What if people read it and hate it? What if no publisher ever wants to publish it? What if it does get published, and no one buys it? What if it gets bad reviews? It is easier for me to sit here and say "I'm a writer" than to take the risk that others will think I'm a bad writer.
So, what do I do about it? I'm going to get some more query letters out this week. Just because a handful of agents rejected me does not mean that I stop. I need to go on. There is a quote from Edison that I like - something like, "Most people stop trying just when they are on the verge of succeeding." I don't want to be that person anymore. I want to be the person who takes risks, and reaps the benefits of those risks.
As you know, I now will ask something of you. Take a look at your Morning Pages. Think about your life. Who you were. Who you are. Are you afraid of success? Are you afraid of failure? Do you sabotage yourself? If so, what do you gain by doing that?
Happy delving,
Elle
Ahh...Elle,
Another challenge, as always. Forgive me for not keeping up with your blog of late - you know how life has been around here.
Just want you to know that you're still on track. I think we (women, perhaps) all go through exactly what you describe. That initial excitement of a new idea, project, passion. Then the reality check of the work it requires to see it to fruition. Then (hopefully) a little taste of success. And then what? We tend to kick back on our heels, hoping that little boost of success will continue. What we fail to realize, of course, is that we haven't built the momentum yet. It takes continuous effort...action... before we can sit back and truly reap the rewards.
Fear of failure vs. fear of success. Which is worse? Personally, I think I'm guilty of both. How many hair-brained schemes have I embarked upon, only to build a little success and then fall away into the wasteland of failure? Consistency is the key to success in all walks of life. Of that, I'm convinced. So I ask myself, "What have you truly been consistent at in your life, and what were the costs and benefits?"
I consistently cultivated my marriage and, closing in on my 20th anniversary, I still believe I married my best friend. That's success. I consistently cultivated relationships with my children, and I have two beautiful, happy, rather well-adjusted and courteous young ladies in my life. Young ladies I'm proud to call daughters, but even prouder to call friends. I consistently plodded my way through evening classes until I finally earned that elusive piece of paper.
What were the costs? Love. Vulnerability. Hard work. Blood, sweat, and tears. I got up every single day and committed some portion (a large portion) of my time and effort to each of those 3 endeavors.
What were the benefits? A loving marriage, wonderful children I can be proud of, a college degree.
Was it worth it? Absolutely.
The flip side, of course, is to ask the question: "What things have I thought about, perhaps even acted on, yet failed to consistently apply myself to, and what were the costs?" The answer? Too numerous to list here. The cost? Failure. Lost dreams. Decreased self-confidence.
The final question: "What do I want badly enough to commit myself as much as I did to my family and that college degree?"
Thanks for the post. I obviously have more personal exploration ahead of me . . .
[WHY do you make me think so hard???
Lynn
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