On writing & letting go of self-expectation

At the beginning of the Simon & Shuster Pocket Books edition of Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl, there is a message from Anne to herself. It reads: “I hope I shall be able to confide in you completely, as I have never been able to do in anyone before, and I hope that you will be a great support and comfort to me.” 

Although the book doesn’t explicitly state so (at least not to my recollection … I confess it’s been decades since I’ve read it), the message is written in the diary she received as a birthday present in 1942, not long before she and her family were forced into hiding. * Anne even gives her diary a name: Kitty.  

Kitty becomes Anne’s confidante, a place where the young teenager could write her feelings, her perceptions … which, when published, gave the world a glimpse into the experience of Jewish people persecuted by the Nazi’s and forced into hiding.  

Of course there is much more to her words, but I recall first time I read Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl, thinking perhaps I too should keep a diary … I imagined myself writing in one, pouring my secrets. I never seemed able to keep at it though. I’ve tried again and again over the years, but Isabelle Eberhardt’s words come to mind: The more I write and develop my story, the more I feel curiously bored with it, hence those nagging doubts about what possible interest it may have for the reader” (from The Nomad, The Diaries of Isabelle Eberhardt). 

Because as macabre as it may seem, in my youth I’d often imagined my writing posthumously discovered. If you’re wondering, yes, I also read a lot of Emily Dickinson.  

I had a different idea of how this little musing (or perhaps rambling is a better description) would turn out. I think I’m learning, however, to treat my writing a bit like a sculptor treats a piece of stone … to let the shape, the story, reveal itself. What had sparked the desire to write this was that despite me calling this little section of my website “weekly musings”, it’s been an entire month since I’ve posted. And, I suppose, much like I have learned that it isn’t helpful to compare my own diary writing (I’ve at least kept up the habit of trying over the years), I can also teach myself to let go of the perfectionism of thinking anyone else but me is keeping score about when or how much I post on my own blog.