My third book, which is just a compilation of my best blog posts from the past year, is soon to be released. While it was “done” in terms of content months ago, the final version was stalled because…I hit a block.

In a mentally and emotionally healthy creative, the desire to write and share one’s writing are unified. There is no divide in feelings. There is no dream of writing but fear of publishing. There is just free-flowing desire that fights for itself. It says “I deserve to exist, and therefore, I deserve to be seen.”

But for someone with “unresolved issues,” as my father-in-law would say, there is not always such an internal agreement. I can be extremely proud of my work, and know that it is going to benefit some people in some way. Simultaneously I can be terrified of letting anyone else see it and thus let my desire become paralyzed in my mind.

Even if my work benefits no one and only me, I will proud that I finished it and put it out there. At the same time, I ruminate on what people might say or think if they do see it.

It is this schism that kept me stalled, despite the fact that I’ve already published two books and sold quite a few copies.

The main reason for this divide was the title. Never have I written something so provocative, even though the contents of the book are far from it. The title is explicit, but the book is not. If people judge the book by its cover, which they usually do, I–seeing the book as an extension of myself–will feel judged and embarrassed.

I know that if they read the book they might understand the title choice more, and also understand the true message it is meant to send. But maybe they won’t care. Why do I care so much about the negativity, enough to let it stop me from expressing myself? The very thing the book is largely about: toxic shame.

As I wrote in a previous post (and in the book):

Shame is the worst thing to ever happen to humans. The idea that we could possibly hide from God, and should in the face of our mistakes, created and reinforces our shame. The further we retreat into darkness to hide our sin (humanity) out of shame, the more that darkness consumes us. Eventually we are praised for self-shaming and turning off what makes us so special, happy, and free (our inherent shamelessness).

I am so afraid of the judgments of others that I cope by getting ahead of them and judging myself first, in every way possible. That self-judgment stops me from doing the thing I fear being judged for, but in turn I sacrifice my creative destiny. And sometimes I still get judged anyways. Or, nobody cares. Nobody notices because so much of my energy goes into hiding, out of the fear of being seen. It’s exhausting and paralyzing and annoying, for someone who yearns for unencumbered creative expression.

Even if there is no audience, I’ve told myself, I must continue creating. But maybe that is a cope itself. I don’t really want there to be an audience, because I don’t know if I can handle it. Part of me wants to be seen, and part of me fears the worst: shame. The thing is, the worst has already happened. I have already been trapped by shame, only it comes from myself. Long before others can shame me, I shame me, and the result is the same anyways. By that logic I might as well share it, since I know I can handle the worst that could happen, or so I think.

I am happy to be sharing my book, Gold Digger, Selfish Bitch, and Other Compliments I’ve Received with the world. I know many people would not approve of my name being attached to such a title. And my desire to please others, especially family members, has made me question this choice hundreds of times already. But now, my desire to please myself is finally stronger. And that is evidence that I know what I’m talking about in my book. It is scandalous and not like the me who always wanted to do right by others, and that is why it is the perfect title.

Thank you to those who have been reading my blog faithfully over the past year. Your likes and comments have motivated me to continue. The more I write, the more I am. Thank you for letting me be.