I’ve struggled with content creation for my entire entrepreneurial life. It used to literally hurt me.
It was made worse by the fact that I had no idea that I was profoundly gifted up until last year. Before that, I had my writing critiqued by well-meaning but non-gifted people who were incapable of following, much less understanding, the intensity and complexity of a gifted mind.
I used to spend six hours a day struggling to translate my native thought modality into language and then slaving over the flow, structure and wording. I wanted my works to fit the standard that non-gifted educators, editors, coaches and friends drove into me—Polished, professional, easy to read and simple to understand.
I was forced to operate at a fraction of my natural cognitive speed, depth, breadth and complexity for an audience who still could not relate anyway.
My lifelong experience of writing in such a way scarred me very deeply and left me with debilitating dread and anxiety around all public writing.
I got around that temporarily last year when I embarked upon what I now refer to as the Original Intrepid Integrity Experiment, where I committed to creating videos of myself practicing “being me”—live, raw and real. 100+ videos and six months later, I emerged from a powerful transformation.
But still, remnants of scarring linger, as they do. Healing is a lifelong process. It is never done.
When it came time to setup Intrepid Integrity’s blog to prepare for launch, I felt the same old creeping tentacles of fear crawling across my mind and my body.
“You need to present as perfect or no one will sign up. You need to write perfect content. It must look good, sound polished and be sterling and no less or you will be shamed.”
I struggled against them for weeks. Got really sick of it too. “I’m so over this!” It was the same old narrative again, “They won’t like me if I’m not…”
I setup the blog on Sunday and on Monday I sat down to write, fingers poised over the keyboard. I had the classic blank page terror. It lasted all of ten seconds before I psychologically banged my fist down on my desk, “This is ridiculous! Okay, so what do I fear?”
Cue huge eye roll. “Okay, so how do I get over it?”
“Don’t be perfect.”
Yah I know… intuition… “Riiight… so how do I do that?”
“Drop the fear.”
Just write. Right. Just write, right? Right.
I’m not here to present a “perfect” mirage. I’m here to be me.
If I present what I believe, no, correction, what I have been socio-culturally conditioned to believe I should be, rather than who and what I am, as an entrepreneur who runs an authenticity incubator, I could not face myself or my tribe.
Who I am to run such a program if I am myself not willing to live the exquisitely intense process of authenticity in the moment, and in real life?
Being who I was told my whole life I should be has done nothing for me but cause me psychological and physiological sickness and unnecessary suffering—Stunting, blocking and shaming me into powerlessness.
Being me feels risky, sure but the risks pale in comparison to a lifetime of fear-based artificiality.
As Pia Mellody says, “By trying to be perfect, I was denying my perfectly imperfect humanity.”
Instead of forcing myself to live up to an unrealistic and unsustainable idea of inhumane perfection, I want to embrace and celebrate the reality of my perfectly imperfect humanity.
This is me.
I remember when one of Intrepid Integrity’s beloved Pioneers shared the song “This Is Me”, sung by Keala Settle in The Greatest Showman during the trial and I wept from sheer joy listening to it. It is, I feel, the anthem of Intrepid Integrity. Enjoy.