From ‘You Can’t Write’ to ‘Here’s My Published Article’ - Take That, Inner Critic
Well, this is going to be the first blog of its kind — well, for me anyway. It’s a bragging blog, which I don’t normally do because it gives me the ick a little, but I’m following my own advice and celebrating the wins. And this one is a big win.
I only went and bloomin’ done it. I wrote — and got published — not one but two articles. One of them even filled a whole page. Granted, most of that page was taken up by a photo, but I didn’t have control over that. As a dyslexic ADHDer, this is huge. Writing might not be a massive deal to some people, but for me it’s always been one of the hardest things.
Why writing has always been difficult for me
Throughout my life, my writing has been critiqued and picked apart. It was never “professional enough”. It was repetitive. It was full of spelling and punctuation mistakes. Sentences wandered off and made no sense — even to me.
Academic essays were sent back, not because the content was wrong, but because they “weren’t written in an academic enough style”. Application forms were a nightmare because the questions weren’t accessible and I couldn’t write in the format they expected. I needed support from others to complete them, and while I’m forever grateful for that help, it also meant I was writing in their voice, not mine.
All of this fed my negative inner critic. It gave that voice more ammunition, more reasons to tell me I was “useless” and shouldn’t write because I would simply fail.
What writing actually feels like for me
For me — and for many dyslexic people — writing isn’t a small task. It’s a huge emotional and mental process. It brings anxiety, spiralling, frustration, exhaustion, and a whole lot of self‑doubt. I’ve avoided courses and qualifications purely because of the writing involved.
And yet… I did it
This time, I wrote completely alone. No one challenged my voice. No one rewrote my sentences. I only used AI to proofread. And it got published. Turns out I’m not a complete failure after all.
Why this matters
Today, I won a battle against that nasty inner critic. For the first time, I can say:
“You can argue with me all you want, but here’s the proof — I can do it. I can write an article.”
And not just any article — one that was well‑received.
What I can’t do is write in an academic manner, and honestly, who gets to decide what “academic enough” even means? What I can’t do is write in a way that isn’t me or doesn’t work for my brain. And why should I? If the content is there, the information is correct, and I’m not using offensive language, why does it have to be written in a certain way?
Conversational writing isn’t less credible. For many people, it’s actually easier to read and understand.
Writing as masking
For years, writing was a form of masking for me — masking on paper. Many neurodiverse people mask in every aspect of life: writing, behaviour, how they present themselves. Masking to fit in, not be judged, not be criticised or ignored.
This time, I wrote unmasked. I wrote like me. I wrote what I wanted. And I wasn’t judged — at least not publicly. I wasn’t criticised. I was praised.
The feeling afterwards
Stepping out of my comfort zone was terrifying, but once I processed it all… my God, I felt elated. I am so goddamn proud of myself. Most people don’t understand the internal battle I have with that negative voice when it comes to writing, but this time I won.
So yes — this is a bragging post. I always say celebrate the small wins, and this is a big one. It deserves celebrating. And when it feels like only you understand how much of a battle writing actually is, then by that logic, I’m absolutely entitled to brag on this one.
And if you’re curious to see the actual articles (because of course you are), here are the links:
Autism Awareness - what adulthood neurodivergence looks like | York Press