I hate the term “noncreative.”
Sometimes people try to sort themselves into a box that I don’t think they belong in.
Just as the terms “believer” and “nonbeliever” left a bad taste in my mouth in the undergrad Christian ministry I joined for a bit, now reading about “creatives” and “noncreatives” makes me wanna hurl.
My boyfriend considers himself a “noncreative.” But when we play Terraria or Stardew, he’s the one customizing our homes and doing some interior/exterior design. He’s the one making everything look aesthetically pleasing and making sure we have inventory maintenance when I’m usually just throwing shit down wherever because I couldn’t care less.
But he doesn’t think he’s creative. I think he is. Creating designs and decorating space is creative as well. Sure, he doesn’t do this to our physical home, but he’s still creating.
I’ve had writer’s and artist’s block for a while. I guess my perfectionist tendencies got to me again and I felt like I couldn’t produce anything of value, so why bother producing at all?
This doubt is something I’ve swallowed recently. I want to create more again, so I’m pushing myself to do the things I love even as anhedonia creeps into and colors everything I do. It’s hard to love life when you feel like you’re not living. If you’re not feeling alive, what is there to love?
