Here’s the thing about being good at something: You’re always bad to start.

I don’t care if you’re learning to swim or ride a bike or speak to a large crowd—you’re never gonna nail it on the first try.

Or the 22nd, for that matter.

But here’s the other thing: You’re definitely not alone.

It’s how adulthood happens.

You don’t just wake up one day and suddenly know everything about being professional and paying bills and making real dinners with ingredients that don’t include cartoon-shaped noodles.

We’re all just fakin’ it ’til we make it.

(Anyone who claims they’re not in that camp is a liar and you definitely need to find more honest and supportive friends.)

I cannot put a number to the occasions on which that mantra kept me sane.

Difficult days at work, impossible trials of homeownership, a bank account with fewer quarters than a college football Saturday—all a matter of faking it ’til I make it.

If you just lol’ed at the idea of me making it, welcome to the Fun Club.

I have definitely not made it, but did recently find myself pondering my progress.

I mentioned in my last blog that my current profession was not part of the original plan. I left one industry for another and was lucky enough to fill a position that’s taken on a life of its own.

Since then, I’ve been nothing but a giant phony driven through life by her obsession with words and proper punctuation.

I’ve gone from helping people spell definitely (still a struggle for the general public) to enforcing an entire brand’s voice.


I’ve been approached about freelance projects—Christmas cards and résumés and websites and again I ask, what?!

If any of those people were to ask for my résumé, it would read something like “I’m a total nerd who tweets and enjoys proofing other people’s emails.”

That’s it! Yet here we are.

A quick, albeit relevant, aside on other people asking me to write things: Please don’t think writing is scary or that you’re “bad” at it.

If you can speak complete thoughts, you can write just as well!

Sure, your first draft of just about anything is probably going to be garbage. But that puts you in the same boat as Rowling, King and Hemingway. Seriously.

Nobody nails anything on the first try. That’s especially true in writing—and life?

Please, proceed.

It seems I’ve paraded my obsessions (complete with failures) around just long enough for the rest of the world to shrug and accept the weird.

“If this is what she’s really wants to give us…”

It really is.

So now I teach workshops to convince people that writing is fun and spend my free time proving it, composing everything for anyone who’s kind enough to ask.

And I have a blog that people say they enjoy from time to time (and even if they’re lying it warms my heart so much I don’t even care).

BUT! I have absolutely not made it.

I don’t think I ever will—few people actually do.

And as a firm believer in solidarity, I thank God for that.


Title Credit: Avril Lavigne

One thought on “Complicated

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