Finding the Courage to Write Again

My office door was shut, I had to do it. I needed to shut out the world so I could write this piece needed to be perfect.

Perfect for her. “It needs to be stellar,” she would repeat over and over and over again.

I found no mistakes, no typos, no fragmented sentences and my peers had checked my work, but it wasn’t enough.

It never was.

With each project, I was fearful, scared of what she would say. How many red marks there would be?

I hated that red pen and wanted to rip it from her skinny fingers.

She used it like a weapon, to wound my creative spirit.

With each swish of the pen, my confidence fell.

I knew I was right. I knew I could write.

But to her I couldn’t.

So I quit.

And on one cold December day I stared at the computer and started over.

The words were hard to come by, but slowly they came.

My voice was loud and clear, and the red marks were nowhere to be seen.

I feel justified.

I found the courage to overcome her tyranny over my creative soul.

I persevered.

And here I am writing without boundaries and with courage in my heart.

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