A Letter to Present Me

Dear Present Chin Ping,

This was not your intended first blog post. Not by a long shot. Not at all.

Your teachers told you that you had a talent for writing; a knack for it. Little do they know that you have never been completely satisfied with anything you have ever written. Nothing is ever good enough because unfortunately, you are a perfectionist. And nothing is perfect. That is why you have edited and rewritten your original post countless times before you FINALLY decided to take a different approach (hence, this letter). You probably never will be content with any of your work, but despite that, you love writing. You always have. As a matter of fact, your love for writing is to be blamed for your reappearance on this godforsaken platform.

You haven't been writing much since you left secondary school and that has left you feeling hollow, perhaps even slightly purposeless. And so you started this blog, hoping that it would fill the void and that your written work would evolve and mature with each post. Remember to have fun while you're at it—explore and experiment with new authorial voices, styles and formats; think about how you can string words together so that they have the most impact; push yourself to convey ideas in different ways. This space has no closed doors or white walls. The blank canvas is yours to paint.

There are many times in which you have felt as if your writing is not up to par. Writing your first blog post—the original one—was one of them, and I have no doubt that you are going to feel this way many, many more times in the future. In fact, you are going to proofread this 50 times and try your damnest not to delete it, but this—THIS is why I am writing to you. To remind you not to be too hard on yourself. Your tendency to strive for 100% perfection is dangerous and has all too often led to adverse effects on your mental health. It is absolutely okay to feel as if you aren't doing as well as you are supposed to, but know that this does not mean that you are a failure. If you need to, take a minute to breathe. Put your head down or go for a walk. Re-evaluate. Remind yourself that nothing is perfect. Drill this into your stubborn, self-loathing mind. Start writing again only when you have decided that you are ready to do it with 100% commitment without expecting 100% perfection. Remember—you are your harshest critic.

This may not be what you had in mind for your first blog post, but I hope this letter serves as a reminder to you whenever you're doubting your own ability or pushing yourself too hard. With that, go forth. Write. This is where you go.


Love,
Chin Ping