the vulnerable internet it-girl

writing like no one's watching

When it comes to forms of creativity that allow you to express yourself the most, those that include words are high up there. Over things like painting or photography, creative outlets like writing or music are the ones where the viewer sees the creator most clearly. Abstraction is harder to create because words betray the artist behind a work most directly. Unless you’re writing poetry where the crypticism and abstraction become a stylistic choice, there’s only so much good hiding that can be done behind words. Especially if we want those words to mean something to someone.

Good art, above all else, is honest. As consumers of media, books, content, what resonates with us the most is unexpected vulnerability. Real, honest and raw depictions of the human psyche that we can relate to deeply in a way we wouldn’t have expressed as easily ourselves. The most strongly-loved musicians are those who appear the most human through their lyrics and expression- there’s only so much connection you can create between artist and audience by keeping it safe. Anyone who writes or creates with words, I think, is on a constant struggle to balance expression and perception, all too aware of the perceiving eye. That awareness is what holds the most talented creatives back from sharing their gifts with the world, whether they are conscious of it or not. And it’s all too natural.

In the comment section of every viral YouTube and TikTok video about journaling, there’s someone saying “I used to journal but I stopped because my mom/my friend/my partner/etc. read my journal. I can’t write anymore because I’m always scared someone will read it”. It’s an unfortunate turn of events and a very valid excuse; journaling is a self-facing outlet and we understand it’s more effective the more honest you can be. But you can’t write honestly if you fear an uninvited reader, and therefore you end up dipping your toes lightly into shallow water, expressing one tenth of what could be, and so getting just as much out of it.

I used to write just like that even when I journaled for myself. Private notebooks were never private in my mind; there was the self that was writing, and the self that was inventing an audience and observing on their behalf. I had never stuck to journaling because it was never fully honest, and therefore never rewarding. Most people have no outlet where they allow themselves to be one hundred percent, fully transparent and free of judgement - some have therapy, some a very trusted friend, but are we ever fully free of the perception of our expression, even then? When I picked up journaling again on my 23rd birthday, I was making a clear change: I’d write like absolutely no one would ever read it, and remind myself of that every time. It was the only way to get to know myself better and reap the rewards of honest and unfiltered expression; and with self-discovery and curiosity always being driving forces for me, the incentive was worth the risk. It turned writing regularly for myself into my favorite habit. I got to understand myself better, solve problems I didn’t know existed, and become comfortable with expressing myself more authentically.

When writing publicly, of course, things are always different. There is a surface level of vulnerability I’m always willing to reach that often appears deeper than it really is; “opening up” always with maximum safety. The more I write on Substack, the more comfortable I become (albeit so slowly) with revealing more truth about myself through my writing and hitting publish. It’s almost funny to see just how much I dread it every time I share anything remotely personal through my writing. My sister has seen me contemplate sharing my Substack blog post on optimism on my Instagram story for probably half an hour, then post it, freak out and delete it 45 seconds later, and then post again and hide my phone away. The universal writer experience. That one is genuinely not even a very personal post - I think I kept myself safely out of it, as I always tried to do, with just a cautious dash of vulnerability thrown in there for relatability’s sake. Every sentence I would reread and perceive through the eyes of ten different people, making sure I’m covered on every front. How exhausting.

Creating publicly, for me, has always been a battle between the exhausting urge to filter and protect, and the need to share ideas with others and connect. The more I read, meet other writers and observe, the harder it becomes to ignore what we know but don’t want to see about creativity: it’s at its best when it is genuinely a vulnerable and honest expression. My favorite pieces that I’ve read are those that make me admire the writer for their honesty and the fearlessness with which they express introspective insight that everyone else is too afraid to admit to. I keep seeing that we’re all the same. For your most vulnerable expression, there’s someone who will feel seen and validated in witnessing their experience put into words. I love Substack because it’s the one platform where so many people seem to be opening themselves up more to the idea of being vulnerable to connect with others. Your favorite bloggers are rarely hidden in safety - the internet it girls that make me open every email in my inbox and admire their effortless coolness are those that seem most unafraid to express themselves authentically.

In the same way that journaling is most rewarding when we write like there will never be a reader, we can try to bring a little more of that honesty to everything that’s public-facing. There’s probably a reason why you’re putting something out there (whether it’s writing, music, or another outlet) — is it connection? Is it to meet likeminded people? For the right people to find you, you have to be more you, more loudly. As scary as it is. Fear of judgement is natural, but let anyone who judges your honest expression show themselves out; isn’t it an easy filter to see who’s right for you and who isn’t? Writing and creating like there will never be a reader is the best way I know to ensure expression is most real. And when you express yourself in an honest and real way, you increase the surface area for serendipity: the right people, opportunities, connections, conversations, are all a result of that.