When Humility Is Selfish

Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash

A Tiny Tale

At a 2017 writers’ conference, I met a young woman in person who had, the year before, coached me online with my first novel and gave me awesome constructive criticism. We became well-acquainted through the process and getting to meet her in person at the conference was amazing. She asked to eat lunch together one day, and we did. Aside from that, I didn’t spend much time with her, which was okay. She was on staff with the folks who put on the conference, so in addition to being busy, she was way cooler than me. (So I thought).

After I got home, I sent her a message with a question I had, completely unrelated to the conference. She responded to my question, but also added how she was really sad that she didn’t get to say goodbye to me when I left.

What?

I felt sick. I didn’t even think about telling her goodbye. There were a couple of reasons for it I suppose, but one being that I didn’t realize that it would mean anything to her if I did tell her goodbye. In underestimating myself (“I’m just a student and don’t work for this awesome place like you”), I unintentionally disappointed her.

My actions said I thought she was a snob that wouldn’t care to say goodbye to someone “as low” as me. I never thought her a snob, but my actions said I did. I didn’t purposely avoid her, but I didn’t think about that fact that it would mean something to her if I said goodbye. I should have been intentional. In devaluing myself, by being “humble,” I was being selfish and hurtful.

A young man said the following in a short speech at the start of the same conference one year later (2018): “Your friendship matters to others more than you know.”

My skewed humility was self-centered. I didn’t think about how she would feel.

The Point

What does this have to do with writing?

A few weeks ago, in my post Writing Things Worth Reading I brought up the question, why do you write?

Amid your variety of answers, hopefully one of them was that you write for others. After all, you write to have your work read, right?

Yes and no. You want people to like your story of course, but there is always, always the fear that no one will like what you’ve written. There’s always the fear of baring your work to others, to the hungry wolves of the art world. To the people who won’t care about the time and effort you’ve put into your book, to the people who will tear it apart just because they can. Unfortunately, that’s not an unwarranted fear. People are like that.

And so, you hold onto your work. You tie up your stories and lock them away in the dark. People ask what you do with your time, and you tell them, “I write, but I’m not very good at it.”

Friends ask to read your work and you say, “No, it’s not that great.”

You’re “humble.” And selfish. We confuse devaluing ourselves with humility.

Maybe your work isn’t that great. Maybe it needs a lot of polishing before it hits the publishers. But if you refuse to share your work, especially with the people that truly care about you, you’re being self-centered.

You’ve underestimated yourself, your work, and the God Who made you. You’ve forgotten that He’s given you a talent, a love for writing. He made you with a desire to tell the story ideas that you have.

You don’t have to share every piece of work with every person that crosses your path. But if you step out and let people read what you write, you might touch their life in a way that no one else can. You might transform them.

“Many times the reading of a book has made the future of a man.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson.

You might give them the hope they’re looking for.

“The true question to ask respecting a book is, ‘has it help’d any human soul.’” – The 1869 Librarian of Congress.

If you know you’ve changed them or not, if they tell you thank you or not, doesn’t matter. When you share and make yourself an agent of hope, whether you receive criticism or thanks and you’re okay with whatever you do or don’t get out of it—that’s humility.

So write, share, and be humble.

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“Humility makes great men twice honourable.” – Benjamin Franklin

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