What I Thought I Couldn't Do

Procastination

The Weight of Procrastination and the Wish to Write

When I look back over the years, one of the clearest memories I carry from high school all the way through college and graduate school is how much I struggled with procrastination. There’s that old joke that says, don’t do today what you can put off until tomorrow. But for me, it never felt like a joke. It was a real and painful struggle. Tomorrow always came, and with it came the pressure of unfinished work, of looming exams, and of the heavy weight of anxiety that made it hard to move forward.

Procrastination followed me like a shadow. I didn’t want it there. I didn’t invite it. But it kept showing up. I would put off studying for tests, delay starting on projects, and avoid facing difficult subjects. I don’t think it was laziness. I think it was fear. I think it was anxiety so strong that it paralyzed me. I was scared of not understanding things, of failing, of being judged. That fear would wrap around me and make even simple tasks feel enormous.

And yet, strangely, there was one thing I didn’t procrastinate on. Writing. I always did my writing assignments on time. Essays, papers, compositions, even creative writing. Somehow, the moment I had to sit down and write, I felt like I belonged there. Writing didn’t scare me. It gave me a voice. It gave me freedom. It let me express thoughts and feelings that I could not say out loud. I didn’t put off writing because it gave me something I desperately needed. It gave me a way to be myself.

Now, all these years later, at eighty-two going on eighty-three, I find myself writing more than ever. And I’m not writing because I have to. I’m writing because I love to. I think I always wanted to be a writer. I just didn’t know that I could be one. Or maybe I didn’t think I deserved to be. But here I am, writing essays from the heart and sharing stories that I once kept inside. I think, in a way, I was always preparing for this part of my life. This is the life of a writer. Not a famous one. Not a professional one. Just a real one.

It’s also funny to remember how much I used to read. Even as a young boy, I loved books. I read authors like Dostoyevsky and Steinbeck. I read Joseph Conrad and so many others. I didn’t always understand everything I was reading, but I felt pulled into those stories. I felt connected to something bigger, something human and honest. Reading was never a chore. It was a comfort.

There’s one memory that stands out very strongly. It was in college, and I had a final exam in French coming up. I had not studied enough and I knew I wasn’t ready. Then a giant snowstorm came through. It hit on a Friday and shut everything down. And just like that, I was given a gift. I had the whole weekend to prepare. And I did. I studied hard. I focused like I never had before. And when Monday came, I showed up for that exam. I was still nervous, but I did it. I took the test and I passed. I didn’t get a great grade. I got a D. But I passed. And that mattered to me. That small victory stayed with me. It reminded me that even when fear is strong, I can still show up. I can still try.

One subject that brought out the worst of my procrastination was math. From the early days of arithmetic through algebra and later advanced algebra, I convinced myself that I simply wasn’t smart enough. I believed it so deeply that I avoided math whenever I could. It became one of those subjects that stirred up shame and fear in me.

But life has a way of teaching us lessons in the most unexpected ways. After I graduated from college and wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next, my family encouraged me to go into public school teaching. I agreed, not knowing where it would lead. I went for an interview and was offered a job. And then came the surprise. I was told that the subject I would be teaching was math. Math. The very subject I had feared and avoided. I needed the job. I wanted to work. So with a nervous heart, I said yes.

What followed changed everything. Every single evening before the next school day, I studied. I studied basic arithmetic and advanced algebra. I reviewed concepts I had long avoided. And slowly, something remarkable happened. I not only learned the material, but I began to master it. Even more surprising, I discovered that I could teach it. In fact, I taught it well. My students learned. They understood. And I, who once believed I could never do math, became someone who could explain it clearly and even enjoy it.

So often we convince ourselves that we are not good enough, not smart enough, not capable. We carry those beliefs for years, never testing them, never challenging them. But sometimes life surprises us. Sometimes we find out that what we thought was a weakness was never really a weakness at all. It was just a fear we had not yet faced.

And that is why, even now, I feel such gratitude for the turns my life has taken. I faced my fears. I grew beyond what I once believed about myself. And I write these words today with a heart that has learned that growth is always possible, even in the places where we once felt stuck.