I often ask myself when writing a piece, “Am I doing this well?” “Could this be better?” “Am I good enough?”

Perfectionism weaves a false narrative that I’m lackluster despite overwhelming proof of otherwise. It’s a consistent roller coaster of emotion, wondering if I come up short when I’m right on time. Too often, I’ve compared my work to others and felt robbed of the joy and freedom of creativity. When I admit this out loud, it feels like a vulnerable topic to speak about. But talking things through helps me to organize my internal thoughts. Sometimes saying the thought aloud takes away the power.

Writers often find it difficult to avoid comparing their work to fellow creators. When your content is in public spaces online, it’s easy to wonder why some achieve success more than others. There are myriad of reasons some creators have more achievements. I’ve contemplated why my good fortune is lacking in the writer’s sphere. My guess is a lack of consistency and schedule. Is it useful for me to nitpick at these things? On some level, it can be. Every successful writer has a recipe that got them there. Creative systems like outlines create clear-cut maps, navigating exactly what they want to say or write, based on feelings they have in their mind’s eye. Some post their work on a specific platform for views and feedback, and do not allow others to see the light of day. Each person has a unique way of concocting their stories. I strive to promote my work and prioritize writing, as I love to do. I’d love for this to be my full-time job, but it never became my career. Writing is more of an outlet for expression and less of a job.

The older I become, the more I trudge in the opposite direction of juxtaposition. I’ve lost so much time listening to the inner critic in my brain talk about perceived successes. The decision to redirect this criticism to a healthier narrative has extreme benefits. With a little grace, I realize I will never be perfect in the attempt to change, but I push against fear. Publishing my writing helps me manage the pressure of others’ apparent achievements. Why discount what I can offer and not allow people to see what I’ve written?

Even with a full-time job, I’ve permitted myself to move at the pace needed in the moment. Life’s strides all call for unique timelines or trajectories. Some weeks are better than others for my schedule to write, but every moment I’m given is a gift. The milestones I reach may not look like anyone else’s, and that’s okay. I’ve made peace with my abilities and have given up the need to be like everyone else. My success in writing isn’t based on merit. Of course, it would be nice to have, but the sheer enjoyment of the craft and the comfort it brings me is the real victory.

Comparison used to be the loudest voice in the room. Now, it’s a whisper I’ve learned not to obey. I recognize my strengths and chose not to dwell on the weaknesses I see in myself that I perceive in the strength of others. Each post written deserves a seat at the table. I return to my love for prose, not for applause but joy, freedom, and expression. Every time I write, I reclaim a little more of myself from the shadows of someone else. And in doing so, I’ve unlocked how I’ve always been enough.

Editor: Lucy Cafiero