How do they do it?

I love the game “the grass is greener on the other side.” you might call it differently. But I always (even if I try not to) compare myself to others: other writers, other mothers, other women, or anyone who has something I would want to.

I know it’s a horrible game, and I should stop. Nine out of ten times, I manage not even to start the game. I have managed to get my mind so far as not to compare what I have to others and to be proud of what I have achieved.

Still, there are days the game hits its play button, and I am off. I got triggered by a message on FB, another author writing her next book; while raising kids or even recently had a baby. The words flow from their fingers while I cry as I stare at my empty white screen with its cursor blinking on some unseen rhythm that only the cursor knows.

When the game has started, the sentences that seem to play on repeat as background music do too. Telling me, “see, they can still work; they didn’t break down while being pregnant; they are doing it, they have their shit together. Look how perfectly they are in their roles as a writer and mother.” and yes, I know it’s not all shiny and perfect as I see it. But it’s how it feels for me, how I interpret that bit of information.

I see a woman owning her life, raising children, and still being an author, and here I am, struggling to get any word on paper, to finish a sentence without hating myself for what it says. To doubt every word my mind produces on paper.

Yeah, it might be writer’s block, but why?

I know I can do this; I see other mothers do it. I have seen my mom working and raising four kids; if she and they can do it, why can’t I?

Why do I keep pushing play on that stupid game? Why do I compare myself with others? They aren’t me, and I am not them.

The question that pops up while writing this. Do I need to be them to achieve what I want? NO!

I have done this; I know I can do this. So why am I not doing it? I have no fucking clue; the stories are there, and the words and worlds keep building in my mind.

Why do I compare myself with others when I know it won’t do me any good? I do not want to be the victim in it, the sad person who wants something but only complains about others having it.

I am the person who pulls up her pants, kicks herself under the ass, and gets working. I get motivated by it, only to be dragged down by myself.

What a bitch am I! 🤣

I know this all; it isn’t worth anything, and it won’t help me with writing if I feel shit.

I wished I had the answer to how others do it. How they write, work and be everything they are. If you have the answer, please share.

For now, I pull the plug on my grass is greener game as soon as it starts and uses the frustration to get motivated again.

Published by Serena Nova

Hello, I'm a new author in this world. I'm an Indie author, and this is what I do in my daily life. The weird conversations I have with my computer, cats, and boyfriend. How I process all the things that happen around me and how it all goes. Greets

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