When I Thought I Could(n’t) Write

I’ve been blogging for what seems like forever. My blogging “career” actually dates back to March 2010–when I first started my Tumblr with a URL based on one of my trademark sayings: “S-T-A-P as in Peter-F as in Frank… It’s pronounced the same as the infection, just spelled differently.” If you know me, or have met me recently, you know that this is how I explain my German last name to new people.

Fast forward three years, to 2013, where I’d thought I’d refined my writing enough to be considered “decent.” I wrote a couple pieces for a class that I truly enjoyed and got great feedback when posted on my Tumblr, and when showed to my friends. I thought that perhaps I was “good enough” to be featured on a blog that I read (at the time) religiously.

I bit the bullet, wrote something, and sent it.

I waited and waited. No response. In the worlds of writing and applying for jobs, no news is never good news. I wondered night and day what went wrong; what about what I had written wasn’t good enough, didn’t cut the mustard, didn’t hit the mark. I tried again–two more times–and still had no luck.

I gave up for a while, thinking I didn’t have what it took. Then, I realized that it never really mattered what other blogs thought. What mattered was that I thought I was good enough. That I could write what I wanted, how I wanted. Curse words, incomplete sentences, and my personal favorite, the Oxford comma. Other places hate those things. On my own blog, in my own space, I could write as I pleased.

There isn’t much in this world that makes me happier. The only thing I can think of right now would be some Brownie Cookie Sundae ice cream from Stewart’s.

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