For writers, Trungpa’s words have special significance. “Not being afraid of who you are” as a writer means developing a kind of self acceptance that goes beyond mere confidence or “self esteem.” I think of it as “honoring your vision”—acknowledging your own unique talents and valuing the story that only you can tell.
As Trungpa points out, this kind of open regard for yourself (and your writing) takes courage, hard work, and a good deal of self-awareness. I can’t claim to be fully there yet—but I have come a long way in learning to honor my own vision. Here are some steps I’ve taken along the way:
1. Learning to look at my work critically. I’ve known writers who piled up years of unsubmitted manuscripts because they couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to read their work. I’ve also known writers who were so convinced of their own brilliance that they sent off everything that came out of their pens with little revision. Both extremes are deadly to a writing career—and they both come from fear.
When you are not afraid of who you are, you open to both the genius of your work and its failings. Being aware of the skillfulness of your own writing doesn’t make you arrogant—arrogance comes from insecurity—and seeing its flaws doesn’t shame you. Instead, you learn to honestly evaluate your work. You are able to feel true pride in your accomplishment even as you acknowledge and correct problems.
2. Learning to respond maturely to criticism. Let’s face it: Even well-intended criticism doesn’t give us the toasty feeling we get from praise. But when you are unafraid of yourself, the sting of criticism is muted. Writers who have a deep trust of themselves and their talents do not get defensive, angry, or hurt when others comment negatively on their work. They ask themselves frankly if the criticism is accurate and valuable. If it is, they listen to it, grow from it, and appreciate it. If it isn’t, they shrug it off.
3. Moving forward in the face of rejection. Even a strong dose of self-confidence won’t always stave off an initial feeling of disappointment or frustration when you get yet another “no thanks.” But when you are unafraid of yourself as a writer, you see rejection for what it is: Not a judgment about you, but a necessary part of the writing life. When you honor your vision, it becomes easy to dispose of the pain and keep going. The more you honor your vision, the more you find you aren’t writing for acceptance anyway—you’re writing for writing.
4. Staving off jealousy and comparison. Early in my writing career, I realized that there were always going to be people doing better than I. I knew that if I compared myself to other writers, I’d never have a moment’s peace. If you’ve ever felt a twinge of irritation over the fact that you’ll never have as much renown as Toni Morrison, as many publications as Stephen King, or as much money as J. K. Rowling—and be honest, you have—then you know what I’m talking about.
For the writer who honors her own vision, these comparisons don’t mean a lot. She realizes that her place in the Universe is unique, that none of us are here to be someone else. When I was just starting out, I had a phrase I repeated to myself that put this all in perspective. “No, you don’t have the talent of Emily Bronte,” I’d say to myself. “You have the talent of you.”