The Poet's Pause: Facing the Fear of Sharing Our Hidden Selves

For a while now, I've quietly worked on a book of poetry. It's finished, truly finished, and ready for the world to see. But the thought of actually hitting "publish" has brought on a wave of fear, a hesitation I didn't fully anticipate. It's like I've crafted this beautiful, raw piece of my soul and now, the idea of releasing it feels like exposing a part of me I've kept hidden, a true unveiling.

This collection of poems dives deep into my experiences as a Black woman – the joys, the heartbreaks, the quiet strength, and the loud resilience. There’s a poem in there about my hair, a piece of our identity so rich with history and personal journey. And there are words about no longer wearing capes, about shedding the burden of always having to be strong for everyone else, about reclaiming our softness and our boundaries. These are not just words on a page; they are fragments of my truth, pieces of my lived reality.

The act of writing it was incredibly cathartic, a way to process and understand. But the leap from creation to public sharing feels different. It's the fear of judgment, perhaps, or the vulnerability of having something so close to my core interpreted by others. It’s the realization that once it's out there, it no longer belongs solely to me. It will live in the minds and hearts of readers, sparking their own reflections. And that, in itself, is a powerful, yet daunting, prospect.

I know I'm not alone in this feeling. We, as Black women, have often been taught to guard our deepest selves, to protect our emotions, to present a certain facade to the world. We are strong, capable, and resilient. But behind that strength lies a universe of sensitivity, dreams, and profound truths. And sometimes, sharing those truths, especially in a raw, artistic form, can feel like the biggest risk of all.

Have you ever felt this way? Have you created something deeply personal – whether it's a piece of art, a story, a business idea, or even a heartfelt conversation you needed to have – and found yourself hesitating at the threshold of sharing it with the world? What was that moment like, and what held you back from that brave unveiling?

I'm leaning into the understanding that true power often lies on the other side of vulnerability. And perhaps, by sharing my fear, I'm already taking the first step.