Writing About Tangerines

My teacher placed a small tangerine on the corner of my desk. It was the first day of class, and the tiny woman bushed past me. Her lips crinkled around the edges as she spoke, and even when she was quiet I could faintly see the fine lines of pursed lips. I initially couldn't tell if she was mean or kind, but I liked her anyway. On the sheet of paper in front of me had a list of 1-15 writing prompts that were inspired by an orange.
I felt nervous, and explosion of butterflies. It had been so long since I had written, really written.
What if I was rejected? It echoed in my brain.

I was (and maybe still am a tiny bit) so scared of being rejected for my creative efforts.

It didn't take me long to realize that many people feel this way. That somewhere in someones head they create this image of themselves and how they can be. It also doesn't take long for you to be criticized for that effort. I felt it quick.

The first thing I wrote for that class was an elaborate poem, in a sort of format and context that was incredibly abstract.

The tiny teacher hated it.

All I could think of was all the abstract paintings hanging for millions of dollars all around the world, and lyrics, for heaven's sake lyrics! They never make sense, but they felt right. The musician knew what it meant, and left it up to interpretation.

From that point on I realized that anything we do can be left up for interpretation. There is no one in this world who can understand exactly the way you want to portray yourself. And the ways you choose to do it. And that is okay.

It has taken me years to understand that it is okay to not be understood.

Fear ends up ruling us to the point where we don't want to produce anymore, maybe because that lack of understanding is so immense or that fear you will be rejected because what you are doing isn't up to par with someone else opinion.  I had fallen into that trap, several times and for long bouts of time where the idea would come to me, but I would stop myself before getting humiliated in the creative process.

Everyone feels this, and everyone knows what it is like to be rejected. So I wasn't so alone in my paralyzing fear of creation.

It has taken me so long to let go, and untangle my thoughts about myself. It is amazing, the feeling when you are on the verge of breaking those bonds to be free.

And more importantly to be exactly who you want to be.

Bring on those tangerines, I'm ready to write.