final total. (that autocorrected, but i refuse to edit it and change it back to title)

I have a tendency of cutting it pretty close to deadlines (for multiple reasons), but I think having the ability to say “I rushed/didn’t edit = it’s not my best work” acts as training wheels. I get to feel like I’m acing without the risk of failure. At the same time, I’ve always weirdly valued feedback and suggestions because I view them as a challenge to get better, fueling my already hyperactive drive for competition. I think something that can make it sting a bit is that I’m terrified of disappointing people, and an excess of praise at a young age can make a minor suggestion feel like a personal failure in comparison. Writing used to be an outlet, but years of not allowing myself to do it in a creative manner stunted progress. Emotional vulnerability is NOT my strong suit in the slightest. Seriously. I honestly can’t emphasize this enough; if you hug me, you can physically feel me awkwardly freeze up. Rereading my own work makes me uncomfortable simply by reminding me that I have *shudders* feelings. I’m mortified by the idea of someone else knowing that I possess emotions, let alone scrutinizing my unrefined gibberish. It can take a lot to even acknowledge certain thoughts, and opening up something that fragile to commentary is daunting. However, I’ve gotten much better at it! That Monica Geller-esque competitive nature tends to express itself in a personal emphasis on growth. When you compete with yourself, you always win (and have a formidable opponent). The concept of wasted potential drives me insane, so I started compiling a list of things to keep in mind when faced with constructive criticism and revision. I think I know how I can move forward to make it hurt less, but until I learn to separate the words from the personal significance they hold to me, I’m sure it’ll ache.