What are you good at?

That’s one of those questions that sounds simple until you actually try answering it.

Truth be told, people probably expect me to say poetry. Or photography. Maybe both. And I suppose after twenty odd years of scribbling away, a few books, and having my work published in magazines and anthologies, I’ve certainly earned the right to say it. Same with photography. I’m still learning every day, but apparently I’ve got “a good eye” for it. 

But if I’m being completely honest?

The thing I’ve always been best at… is doubting myself.

I could write something people connect with deeply and still sit there afterwards convinced it wasn’t good enough. I could take a photograph I’m genuinely proud of, then immediately spot twenty things wrong with it. That little voice in the back of your head never quite shuts up, does it?

Imposter syndrome is an absolute bitch.

It’s strange really. You can spend years building things — poems, photographs, books, relationships, a life — and still feel like you’re somehow winging it while everyone else has the instruction manual.

Maybe that comes from the past. Maybe from growing up feeling different. Maybe from spending years trying to shrink yourself down enough to fit into places never designed for you in the first place. 

But here’s the funny thing I’ve realised as I’ve gotten older.

Being good at something isn’t always about confidence.

Sometimes it’s about persistence.

About carrying on despite the doubt.
About still picking up the camera.
Still writing the poem.
Still putting your heart into the project even when part of you is whispering:
“Don’t bother.”

So what am I good at?

I’m good at feeling things deeply.
I’m good at noticing the little things people miss.
I’m good at turning chaos into words.
And despite all the self doubt, I’m apparently quite good at refusing to give up.

Which, all things considered, probably matters more than talent anyway.

Stay safe 

Bc