“Who Do You Think You Are?”
That’s the first thing I hear in my mind when I sit down to write something. It might take some other form: “Nobody cares about that” or “That’s a stupid idea” or “Why bother?”. But what they all boil down to is, “Who do you think you are?” To draw attention to yourself, to think you’re a writer, to be a show-off. It’s what my mother used to call getting too big for your britches, and when that happened someone needed to cut you down to size with a sarcastic remark or a joke.
Now I cut myself down to size whenever I think I’m not good enough because I don’t have an MFA or a published book or even a CV! My truth is that I’ll always feel like I’m getting too big for my britches when I sit down to write. Always.
And what I’ll be working on all my life is writing despite that. But I don’t think the fear of getting too big for your britches is exclusive to writers. It can happen to anyone who takes a risk--who disagrees with the boss, tries out for the lead, or suggests a better way to do a job that “we’ve always done this way.” In my case, I haven’t found any way to completely silence that voice, that question. Who do I think I am? Full of doubt. Full of fear. Full of self-delusion. Always on the verge of quitting. Somehow starting again.
Nikki Hardin is a writer of stories, musings, and memories. Her poetry has been published in Riverteeth Journal. She was the founder and publisher of skirt!, a monthly women’s magazine in Charleston, South Carolina. You can reach her at nikki@thedailynikki.com.