When I tango, I know how the dance feels for me, but I never know how my partner experiences it. That uncertainty makes me uncomfortable. Yet if I want to dance, I have to put myself out there and connect with a partner.

It’s the same with writing. I know what the creative experience means to me, but I never know how a reader will respond to my work. That’s why sharing something I’ve written frightens me. 

What if they hate it? Or worse, what if it means nothing to them, and they ignore it?

But if my work remains hidden in a desk draw it becomes the proverbial tree falling in the forest with no one to hear it. It’s as if it doesn’t exist until I complete the artistic twosome between writer and reader. So I swallow my fear, press that send key, and hope that my words resonate with someone.