“I Am Allowed to be Human”: Removing Shame from Not Writing
- Julia Galindo
- 1 day ago
- 5 min read
KC Davis is a licensed professional counselor who was diagnosed with ADHD later in life. Based on her own experiences, and her experience working with clients, she wrote the book How to Keep House While Drowning: A Gentle Approach to Cleaning and Organizing to destigmatize the shame associated with falling behind in “care tasks” at home or in the realm of personal hygiene.
But when I read this book, I couldn’t help but apply her advice to writing. Because the trouble we have getting our writing done due to having busy lives and pressing obligations is one thing. But the layer of shame we then feel about not writing is, as they say, a whole ‘nother ballgame.
About midway through the book, Davis writes about the one affirmation that has worked for her, in part because it doesn’t feel too cheesy or make her cringe. It is, simply: “I am allowed to be human.” Do you know what humans do? They make mistakes. They say the wrong thing sometimes. They make a plan, and then they fail to do it. They may even identify a behavior that’s really good for them, stick to it for weeks or months—long enough so they start to actually feel the benefits (hello, physical therapy exercises!)—and then they still manage to quit or drift away from that “good” behavior, despite knowing how beneficial it is.
When it comes to writing, people feel a great deal of shame around not doing it. There are many reasons why writing doesn’t necessarily receive our best time: it can feel hard, the rewards associated with it are delayed, there’s no one sitting right in front of us expecting us to write (whereas it can seem like there is no end of people knocking on our proverbial doors with requests for our time). The good news is that a small series of conscious shifts is often enough to allow us to prioritize writing and let it claim a central place in our lives.
Taking a page from Davis’s book, one of those shifts should be in how you talk to yourself. If you feel yourself starting a shame spiral about not writing (related: not writing enough or producing writing that isn’t “good enough”), what would it feel like to interrupt that stream of thought with the mantra: I am allowed to be human? For me, when I read those words, I feel a slight opening in my chest, and my shoulders seem to lower from my ears by an inch or two.
If any kind of mantra feels too cheesy or self-helpy for you, Davis recommends asking yourself a “What if—” question:
“What if I am deserving of kindness?” …
“What if I am allowed to make mistakes?”
(Davis, 2022, p. 87).
If you’re feeling shame, it’s likely there are two voices in your head. Davis explains there’s the “inner bully” who says things like, “You’re lazy! You know you need to do this, and you’re not getting it done!” or: “You were supposed to have submitted this four years ago! How is it still not finished?!” There’s also the “little self” who grieves in response to the attacks the bully makes on her. She says things like: “Why is it so easy for other people?” “Why does everyone else seem to be able to get their work done, but not me?”
But, according to Davis: “…I do not think laziness exists. You know what does exist? Executive dysfunction, procrastination, feeling overwhelmed, perfectionism, trauma, amotivation, chronic pain, energy fatigue, depression, lack of skills, lack of support, and differing priorities.” (p. 5)
There is a third voice in there too, Davis writes, and that is who needs to step in when you find yourself in a shame spiral over not writing. That voice could be called the Compassionate Observer (Davis links to Kristin Neff’s work on cultivating self-compassion) or, in the way that I have been thinking about it, you could think of it as your “inner authority.” This is the voice that steps in and says, “No, this is not okay. I will not be treated like this, not even by myself. I deserve love and kindness.”
Because the simple truth is that layering on shame is not going to help you write—it’s going to do the exact opposite. As humans, we’re driven to seek pleasurable sensations and avoid pain. Think of the shame you stack up around not writing as a literal wall you’re building between yourself and your writing, making harder and harder to climb over and get to the actual writing you want to get done.
If you’re avoiding something that you truly want to be doing (like writing), it’s worth looking at the emotional morass that may be driving your avoidance. What is happening inside you when you think about writing? Does your inner bully get activated when you think about your writing? Does a self-defeating narrative stop you in your tracks before you’ve even started? Are you afraid to let in even a little bit of hope that this time could be different—that maybe you will finish? That maybe you will even like what you’ve written?
Can you recognize that we all carry fears and blockages and that working through them is part of being human? Can you tell yourself: I am allowed to be human?
Extra Tidbits:
What I’m reading: Tiago’s Forte’s The PARA Method—For my fellow productivity-heads out there, it seems like a souped-up, more modern version of David Allan’s Getting Things Done, and I’ve been excited to read it for a while. I’ll report back!
What I’m drinking: The iced coffee from Caribou Coffee. The regular coffee blend at Caribou tastes like chocolate and that is very delicious over ice.
What I’m thinking about: As I wrote this blog post, the opening of Mary Oliver’s famous Wild Geese poem kept popping into my head.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
I am thinking about this poem in relation to the concept of rest. (I guess what I love is sleeping! lol). But I am thinking about this: do you let yourself rest when you are actually tired? Because I think doing so would be a kindness.
