I still imagine other people’s private judgments before I’ve even begun

Dear Delyara, That’s the thing that delays me more than effort ever does. Not the work itself. The imagined witness. What will they think if I try and it’s ordinary? If I want it openly? If it matters to me more than it should? If I fail in a way that reveals sincerity? If I look foolish by caring? I build a whole invisible audience before the first move, and that audience becomes one more thing to survive alongside the actual task. No wonder starting feels heavier than it should. I know some of that fear comes from old humiliation and old scrutiny. I still hate how much authority it has over fresh beginnings.