By Jan Amber Reyes, 21
Thomasian Writers Guild,
University of Santo Tomas

The phone rang. She said she’s Ms. Imposter Syndrome.

As a pasmado, it's okay if I stain my fingertips with ink or coat the keys on my laptop with sweat when writing. However, something is worse. I am plagued with frustrations.

Looking back, there was a time in senior high school when I had an itch to write literary pieces, distinct from our usual textual assignments. I would often conjure accidental prose on the last pages of my notebooks. Wanting to keep them and refusing to tear them off, I started keeping a journal. It became the repository of my scribbles and babbles because I fancy myself both a conversationalist and a thinker. It was then that I knew I wanted to become a writer.

Now, as a Creative Writing student at the University of Santo Tomas, writing is a rigorous process. Our courses require me to extract my creative juices from my mind and repurpose my drafts so I can turn them into a worthy opus. It exhausted me, yes, but then I understood how demanding writing can be, not just in academia.

Suddenly, I felt left out. I felt like the last to run when the racing flag was held up. To keep up with my slow start, I joined organizations that would cast Ms. Imposter Syndrome away. I first applied to the broadcasting arm of our school, which led to roles such as segment writer and head writer. Recently, the Thomasian Writers Guild welcomed me as one of its co-directors for poetry.

Everything felt good. But then, the rainy days came. Two student publications refused me. Ms. Imposter Syndrome called again. It felt as if I was back on the sidelines. Writing felt more like a chore rather than an enthusiastic pursuit.

It was my professors who rekindled my spirit for writing just by being passionate about their own work. It turns out passion is contagious. When a national magazine announced a call for applications for a workshop, I decided to apply. Fortunately, I got accepted. It was a wonderful experience because it helped me overcome my fear of venturing out of my comfort zone.

I adopted this mindset of “getting my name out there” because it yielded results: I put my writing to the test and rediscovered my passion. So, I willed myself to submit my literary works everywhere I could. The most recent ones include a poem of mine getting accepted by a Baguio publication, our school media network granting me the chance to write an article, and reading a flash fiction before an audience during our Guild's literary folio launch.

Despite these small victories, Ms. Imposter Syndrome would still occasionally ask for the good news in exchange for a visit. It’s easy to feel unworthy of achievements, but I learned that I cannot outrun her, but it does help me prove it wrong.

I guess every cloud does have a silver lining.