'Cause I'm a man, woman
Don't always think before I do
'Cause I'm a man, woman
That's the only answer I've got for you (uh)
'Cause I'm a man, woman
Not often proud of what I choose
I'm a human, woman
A greater force I answer to
-Tame Impala, "'Cause I'm A Man"
It’s 5:11 p.m. and I get that dreaded Instagram DM. “You need to write slower…” I did it again - I published a post with a horrendous typo. This has been a recurring theme, both in the content I post on social media and in these newsletters. I fuck up, a lot. Thankfully I have a friend who calls me out on this every step of the way (you know who you are), so I’m able to make quick edits and go on like nothing happened. The fact remains that it’s a problem, and it’s got me thinking about my work and my process.
I’m moving at 100 miles an hour, all day every day. I have a full-time job, I write a newsletter article every day, I do Murph (plus my normal workout routine) every day, and I’m constantly creating new content for Modern Bronze. I’m operating in uncharted territory - the output needed to complete these things every day is well above my comfort zone, but no matter what, I get it done. This will not last forever, but I’ve found it to be an extremely effective way of pushing my life and my inventions forward. Action, action, action. The only drawback to this is the potential loss in quality of work, which for me comes out in these little evil typos. Ugh.
Whenever my friend lets me know I’ve made another typo (which I could not be more grateful for - that’s a really good friend), I get a pit in my stomach. Not again. The voices in my head all come out, telling me I’m useless, I suck at writing, I’m never going to be anything. You know, the chattering monkeys that I’m sure you’re all familiar with. Rather than listen to those voices and catastrophize, though, I’ve made a decision to give them a big, fat middle finger. Yes, I make a lot of typos. Yes, I make a lot of grammatical mistakes. You know what I say? Good.
See, Modern Bronze isn’t about packaging a polished finished product to “present to the market”. It’s not about ROI, it’s not about hooking readers, it’s not about being something that I’m not. I’m a man who has many limitations, and who makes many mistakes. I want them all to be seen and to come to the surface - this is who I really am. I write too fast, I don’t take enough time to edit, I don’t look things over enough times, and that’s perfectly okay. If you don’t like it, leave. I’m not holding a gun to your head to consume my content, and if you don’t like what I make because it has mistakes, then you’re definitely not in the right place. Modern Bronze includes all the dirt, grime and sludge that are me. For today, typos come with the package. Deal with it.
This isn’t to say I’m satisfied with my mistakes - I get extremely frustrated when I publish something with an extra word or a misspelling. All this means is this is where I’m at today. How else am I going to learn how to do it right? I’m the type of person who needs to fuck something up a million times before I get the urgency to make a change, so I anticipate there will be plenty more. Maybe even in this very article (the pressure is on). That doesn’t mean I want my friend to stop sending me those “slow down” messages - I cherish those - but it also doesn’t mean I need to have a panic attack every time I get one.
We live in a world that demands perfection, and we’re conditioned to believe that’s the only way to succeed at anything. We hide our mistakes and our blemishes and sell ourselves as something that we’re not. I do this all the time - I want people to like me, to accept me, to think I’m smart and cool. The truth is, I’m just human, and I’m tired of pretending to be perfect. I’ve been a perfectionist all my life, and it got old a long, long time ago. I don’t want to sell myself as anything anymore. I want to be seen with all of my flaws and all my typos. That’s me - that’s Modern Bronze.
The next time you screw something up, give yourself a break. You’re human. You shit, piss, cry and fuck like everybody else. You’re not God, and you’re not the Devil. Nor are you a Saint. You’re doing the best you can in a crazy world that demands too much of you. So relax. Laugh. Dare I say, celebrate the muck and the filth that are uniquely you!