The Words that Hold us Back by Andrea Corrie

For this introductory blog post, I’ve been reflecting on the words we use about ourselves—especially the ones that hold us back. Whether in faith, creativity, or everyday life, our inner narrative shapes far more than we realise. In my various roles, I’ve seen how quickly self-doubt can silence a unique voice—and, conversely, how beautifully confidence grows when we dare to share our words.

How often have you heard statements like these?
“I can’t draw”
“I’m rubbish at baking”
“I’m useless at writing”.

It is fair to say that these indicate a sense of self-sabotage that is both negative and damaging. It is sad that our inner critic’s voice is the one we hear the loudest, and life should most definitely not be like that. These statements often come from old comments, and they become so familiar and convincing that we believe them. But they are echoes of old moments, not truths.

One of my great joys in life is to run a local writing group in Bampton, Devon, where I live. We are in our fourth year and most of the twelve writers have been with me from the start. The group is cohesive, encouraging and talented. We meet fortnightly for three terms per year and our topics range around aspects of writing such as characterisation and plot, structure of a short story, autobiography, poetry and so on. My idea of setting up the group came from my creative writing past in Surrey, where I attended a writing group called ‘Writing from Experience’ for many years. The group, run by Jane, a well read and experienced writer with a journalistic background, taught me an enormous amount; not just about the craft of writing, but about self-belief and the quiet, unexpected growth of self-worth that comes from putting words on a page. Writing teaches us that our individual voice carries weight, and when our work is shared, encouragement and affirmation that we are on the right track is invaluable.

How well I remember the first time I had to read out to the group a piece that I had written. I was so nervous that the carotid pulse in my neck jumped and my heart thumped. But I survived! and went on to be a significant contributor of both poetry and prose in the group. Initially the group met at the local adult education centre, but we moved to Jane’s home when she semi-retired and continued to meet over the years, broadening our writing experience from Jane’s teaching and prompts. I kept most of my archive material which was a useful basis for my own teaching.

Jane only had two ‘rules’ for the group. We were not allowed to say “I’ve written this but it’s rubbish” and we had to avoid writing that left the readers asking the question, “So what?” I have carried these rules with me into my group. Additionally, I always emphasise how  narrative can be lifted by including even a small section of dialogue. And a character in a story must do something; it is a waste of energy and space to introduce someone unless they are going to add to the overall story.

Jane didn’t have the benefit of easy online access during her teaching years, and I draw on the internet for inspiration, quotes and prompts. Prior to each session I prepare notes on the topic of the day. The group bring pieces they have written from the previous session (called ‘non-homework’ by me, and ‘homework’ by them). Each member reads out their writing if they wish to share it. There is no obligation if the writing is particularly personal. The notes include writing prompts: two for ‘off the cuff’ writing in the session, and two to take home, to mull over and prepare for the next session.  I share the take home prompts at the end of our meetings, as I know from past experience that the mulling over of a prompt can tick away in the background of the mind for some time before it converts itself to words on the page!  I circulate the notes too, so there is a written record for each term.

We feed back our responses in a mutually supportive atmosphere – that is not to say there is never any criticism, but we are mindful and respectful of our abilities. A session can quite easily take us from laughter to tears and back again. There are some pieces of writing that we all remember long after they were written because they elicited such a response – surely a measure of success.

We have all been given a limitless imagination and there is such joy to be had from exploring it. We gain much from crafting tales and stories that reflect our lives and ourselves with honesty and admiration, rather than criticism and negativity.

We should not be hiding our gifts and talents out of fear or embarrassment. We should be singing our own praises – not in an arrogant or self-serving way but sharing the joy of being able to inspire others with our words. This takes confidence to achieve, but confidence grows in use, and we are all capable of far more than we allow ourselves to believe.

I recently asked a friend whether she would like to come to a writing workshop that I was arranging.  Her reaction was to say, “I would love to … but I know that writing just isn’t in my gifting.  It is not for me, but I am sure you will attract people who will really enjoy it”.

I think this is a perfect response rather than saying that she is ‘rubbish’ or ‘useless’.  Her brain is hearing such a different message, and that is far more favourable to the psyche. 

Next time you are asked to do something that may be new, or outside your comfort zone, just take a few moments to consider how you word your response. 

 

Devon-based Andrea Corrie BEM is a writer, editor, speaker, retreat leader and water safety advocate. 

andrea.corrie@outlook.com

Blog at: https://andreacorriesblog.wordpress.com/

 Living in the Mourning Light (2020) and Into the Mourning Light (2014) by Andrea Corrie available at https://www.amazon.co.uk/Living-Mourning-Light-Andrea-Corrie/dp/1916271804