Doing it Scared
On perfectionism, procrastination, and trying new things
Grab a coffee, get cosy, I hope these words can find you in a moment of gentleness.
Hello hello,
I’m so glad you’re here, and wanting to give my words a bit of space in your inboxes, and your days.
I’ve been itching to start this newsletter for some months now, but since my usual process involves lots of time spent on planning and figuring out details. I’ve been sitting on it, thinking about it, mulling it over. Hours have been spent trying to fine tune details, brainstorm ideas, envision moodboards. And in all that, I’ve had countless moments of impatience for the part of me that likes to mull (SO MUCH). I’ve had several moments of just wanting to send something out, but have found myself repeatedly coming up against this little voice that finds one more thing that needs to be done, or looked at, or edited, before it can be just right, before it can be good enough. Maybe pick a name, maybe edit that bio. You sure you want to stick with that name? (Spoiler alert: I’m not sure).
My therapist brain understands this little dance as the space between perfectionism and procrastination I’ve so often found myself stuck in, and I imagine so many of us do. But the human behind it finds herself drained by details; the fonts, the colors, the right name. And this joyous little space starts to feel like a tedious, soul sucking task.
Over the years, I’ve learnt to find some compassion for this rather inconvenient voice. Calling it what it is; not procrastination, not perfectionism, but the part of me that cares; about how this might be received, how “well” this does (whatever that means), and is also maybe a bit scared of it not doing too well, not being good enough. I’ve learnt to tend to that fear, with a gentleness, that doesn’t always come too easily. I remind myself, I can be a little scared. And I can carry my fear with me. I don’t need to shove it aside. I don’t need to “just power through this” feeling or bury it in painstakingly perfecting the details. I can tend to it, gently, affectionately. I can acknowledge it, feel it, and do this anyway. Do it scared.
A year ago, when I set up my instagram space, I spent over a year in that scared place, frozen, and obsessing over details, until the process became so frustrating I just wanted to get it over with. And while that has been the place I’ve from often in life, I am now giving myself permission do things scared.
My writing has always been very close to my heart, very protected, so I know parts of me are feeling extra tender sending this out, and yet here we are. Sending it anyway. That doesnt mean I’m not leaning into the part of me that needs time to feel ready. I still sat on this a few days, came back to it a few times, which might be my process every week now, or it might just be that extra bit of time I needed before taking the first plunge.
There is such a freedom in allowing ourselves to do things scared, in giving ourselves the permission to show up nervously. Swapping out the “how do I do the best possible version of this” with a “this is what I have to offer right now, and it feels a little scary to let it be seen”, is the kindest thing we can do for ourselves sometimes.
So here I am, showing up a little scared, a lot excited, intentionally carving out space for my writing, and inviting you into what has always felt like a very precious part of my process.
I hope this newsletter does for you what so many have done for me over the past year, become a moment of pause in this very noisy world. Been my morning coffee companions. Felt like a moment of connection with people I would maybe never find my way to otherwise. And given me the courage to leap into my own creative endeavours.
Thank you for being here.
love,
Ayamma.
I would love to hear what thoughts this stirs in you - feel free to write back, screenshot, share, send to a friend, or do with this what pleases you.