If you were praised as “gifted” as a kid—especially academically—you’ve likely developed a habit of abandoning tasks and projects you don’t succeed at “naturally,” thus cultivating a complex where even perceived failure sends you into an existential spiral, and in this essay I wi
Just me? Ok.
Just sitting here in my grandmother’s house, mildly influenced by anesthesia (I’m fine), staring at the wall of my childhood and adolescent accomplishments, and wondering why things don’t come easy for me anymore.
So may people are like “FINISH THE ESSAY!” and I’m like “DID YOU NOT READ THE TWEET!” 🤣
Post anesthesia, thinking on how I DID manage to finish something, though I feel it’s only because I was doing it for more than myself, if that makes sense.

It took ten years, hundreds of rejections, and if there was one thing I’m glad I somehow kept pushing at, it’s this. https://twitter.com/elleonwords/status/1308194621785362435
It’s still hard as hell, though. Every. Day. And I’ve wanted to walk away more than a few times, no lie.

But the readers are why I’m still here. They keep me going. Especially the Black kids who light up while talking about being able to see themselves in stories like this.
So. There’s some sap for your morning coffee or tea or whatever.
You can follow @ElleOnWords.
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