I have a really weird thing that happens to me whenever I receive a bit of emotionally disturbing news. Whether it’s something small (like someone tells me I said the wrong thing at the dinner table) or something big (like getting hit with rejection or betrayal) my system immediately goes into shut-down mode. I freeze like a panicked animal, my throat, chest and stomach lock up, and the rest of me feels totally numb.
In all of my work with INFJs, INFPs, and Highly Sensitive People—all of who are also writers and artists and empaths—I run up against the same creative block again and again. It’s the problem that won’t go away for us. The thing that haunts us at every turn. It is arguably the most destructive and self-sabotaging limiting belief in the whole grand universe of limiting beliefs.
Every woman has to make a choice in her day-to-day life. The choice is not usually conscious, and it is almost never spoken of to others. It is intimately intertwined with her self-esteem, her sexuality, and her emotional history. The choice is very simple, but each option brings the same amount of baggage.
Eight years ago I joined a writing program in San Francisco even though I was scared to death to do it. I hadn’t written in the eight years before that and I was terrified to start writing again. I had made small attempts over the years—the beginning of a story here, or a journal entry there—but my writing was so clumsy and forced that I couldn’t read what I’d written without cringing.
I was torn between two extremes. On one hand, I was convinced I was a horrible writer and I had no idea how to go about becoming a great writer, or even a good one. On the other hand, I had never stopped devouring books or dreaming about the book I would one day finish. It got to the point where I actually felt sick inside every time I thought about writing.