Am I a magnet for this?

I went to the creative writing workshop at The Folkestone Bookshop on Sunday 27th September, and it was a great way to get words flowing onto the page. I’ve found some of my childhood poems again recently, and would like to connect to creative writing more as part of my art practice. So, I have decided I’ll use this journal as a way to share some of my writing, as rough and raw as it is, and as vulnerable as that feels!

Here’s a typed up version of what I wrote when we first settled down…

Feeling nervous, red, and imposter
But I’m here already, and there’s been some laughter.
As I walked here, I had a bounce in my step.
I think having a bravery buddy has helped.
Why do I find creativity threatening sometimes,
When in it, is solace?
Is it the fear of judgement from others?
But this is a safe place.

There exists a tension between what’s mine,
For me only,
Versus what goes out there.
Prose for show,
Who knows.

Why does it matter,
If it fosters connection,
Allows thoughts to flow,
And some shared reflection?

Is not everything performative in one way or another?
Our gender, our jobs, trying to become a mother?

Damn, there it goes again.
I can’t suppress it.
Always on my mind, while it nestles,
This maybe baby.

And all of the expectant faces,
The football team of fans.
But I need to know it’s okay,
If I can’t, and, if I can.

I am more than this.
I am me.
I am stronger than this.
I am free.

Always a tension, a conflict, a worry.
Sometimes I wonder if I bring it upon myself.
Am I a magnet for this?

No, anxiety, you creep in again.
Why do you have to rear your head this way?
My other part I can’t suppress,
The dishevelled, incoherent mess.

It’s okay, it’ll pass in its own time, it’s own way.