It's Okay to Be A Beginner

Finding the Right Words Day #30: END

me on the first day of this challenge, at the very beginning.

When the instructor introduces a new spin or shape in pole class, before I even try it, I’m already mad at myself for not already knowing how to do the move. I’m embarrassed because I’m going to mess it up. I’m stressed about how long it’s going to take me to potentially learn it. I’m sweaty because of my nerves and I can’t even concentrate. All they ways I’m going to fuck up are going through my mind before I even step to the pole.

I don’t like being a beginner, I don’t like having all of my inadequacy and ineptitude on display. I think this anxiety comes from comparison. The strongest memory I have of feeling like a beginner comes from playing sports in high school. I was on teams with some kids who’d been in sports clubs since they were able to walk, who grew up practicing with their parents or siblings who also played the game. Others on the team were just naturally gifted and talented. They didn’t seem to have to try so hard to be fast or make goals. They didn’t seem to have to learn. They just knew what they were doing and were automatically talented. And my teenage brain told me that because I wasn’t like them, because I had to learn and I wasn’t good right away, then that must mean that I’m bad.

I’m a lifelong overachiever (and, like most child prodigies and overachievers, I’m mentally unwell). My childhood self was always ahead of the class, always determined to be better. If I didn’t already know something, if I wasn’t already prepared, I was an “idiot” as my dad would say, I was a disappointment to myself and to others (at least I believed I was a disappointment to others). 

My therapist once asked me if when I was in grade school, did I expect to have all the answers and know everything the teacher was going to teach before the lesson even began? My answer: YES! Yes I did! Not knowing something means I’m dumb, that I’m not smart. That I’m not good enough. If I have to go get something or build something, that means I didn’t already have it. That means I’m lacking.

And my childhood was lacking in a lot of ways. My family, with divorced parents and half-siblings, didn’t look like the families of my friends. We didn’t live in houses or drive cars like the other kids in school. We didn’t have the same money or clothes or access to extracurriculars and experiences that boosted other people’s childhood experience. I grew up Black and poor and a girl and I never liked feeling like I was behind where everyone else appeared to be. I still don’t like it. Everyone’s achievements and creative exploits are on display now more than ever and my mind takes in these images and asks myself: why are you not there yet?! 

Today is the end of my 30-day writing challenge and I’m reflecting on the beginning, when I was mad at myself for having to do the work of starting a newsletter and planning out prompts. I felt I should be ashamed of myself for not already having my shit together, for not have started a newsletter and writing community long ago. And when I start to feel behind, I tell myself what is even the point of trying? Why even bother starting something new?

But now that I’m at the end, I’m proud of myself for beginning! I’m so glad that I put myself out there, flaws and all. Through writing daily journal entries, I learned so much about my work process. I did a lot of inner work and uncovered long-held beliefs that no longer serve me. I realized that the things I thought was really hard was actually easier than I thought it was going to be, it didn’t have to be as intricate or impossible as I was making it in my mind.

I’m learning not to be intimidated by the space between the beginning and the end, between being a beginner and reaching the end goal. I think when I start a new task, I get so hard on myself for not being done yet. I’m annoyed that I have to begin at all. I know that doesn’t make sense. But I’m realizing that being a beginner doesn’t matter. And reaching the end goal doesn’t really matter either. It’s about what you learn in the middle.

It takes a lot of courage to start something new, especially when you don’t have all the tools, access, or experience to be an immediate success. But when I’m in the midst of the task, just like with pole or with sports or with academics or with my childhood in general, I start to learn new things and I become grateful for the opportunity to enrich my life this way. If I knew everything, I wouldn’t learn anything and learning is half the fun.

Everything I start is not going to be perfect. This challenge certainly hasn’t been. There have been typos, muddled themes, some lazy imagery and sloppy writing. But everything doesn’t have to be perfect. As I said earlier in this essay series, sometimes the effort is enough.

I have a long way to go between where I am now and where I want to be in a lot of aspects of my life. But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t try. The true accomplishment isn’t reaching the end. The achievement is in the trying.

This entry was written under the prompt END, Day 30 of the Finding the Right Words 30-Day Journaling Challenge. Follow along using the graphic above and write about whatever comes to mind with the corresponding prompt. Share with me using the tag #FTRW or email me at joliedoggett [at] substack.com. 

There’s no wrong way to journal. You just gotta find the right words. Happy Writing!