Why writing felt like a guilty pleasure until I let myself embrace it

For years, I felt like writing wasn’t productive — here’s how I stopped feeling guilty and started enjoying the process.

Last February, I sat in my little office immersed in a Zoom Call with my writing coach, Rachel. It was our 5th coaching session, and I had already been writing for six months when we started. I said to her,

“I need to give myself permission to spend time writing.”

“You mentioned this a few times, Dennis. What do you mean by giving yourself permission?”

“I don’t know. I think it may have something to do with my grandfather. He used to say something like ‘Schreiben ist eine brotlose Kunst,’ which means you cannot make a living from writing.

“How do you think that’s affected you?”

“I think it has something to do with feeling overly self-indulgent when I write. Or something like that.”

After each session, Rachel shares her notes and assignments with me. That week, she asked me to write about what permission means to me in the context of writing: what does it feel like? What language do I use for it? What does it sound like when I give myself permission?

The next day, on the couch in my Berlin living room with the MacBook Air on my legs, I hammered the keys like my life depended on it — pouring my heart out about permission. 14 pages and 6,749 words later I re-emerged into the present world. I surprised myself with the amount of words, but things got clearer afterwards.

As long as I can remember, I’ve been focused on making money. I’ve always had a goal to be financially independent. My grandmother didn’t tire of sharing the story about how when I was around 5 years old and someone would ask me what I wanted to be when I was a grown up, I’d say, “A millionaire.”

I grew up as an only child with a single mother who struggled with psychological problems and who was always financially dependent on others. I think seeing this from a young age sparked a desire in me to be financially independent (while I’m not independently wealthy yet, I am in a good position, and my 10 year old self would certainly have cheered me up for it).

I remember being 8 years old, staying in a bed and breakfast on Sylt (Kampen) with my mom for the summer vacation. There was some homework that I made a commitment with my grandfather I would work on during that time. When I didn’t want to do the homework one day, I couldn’t simply ask my mom to give me a pass to enjoy vacation. She would tell me she has to ask my grandfather whether it’s ok. When she wanted to go on vacation with me to Sylt, she probably had to ask her father for the budget for that, too. When I wanted anything extra, she usually had to ask him. She also had to tell him almost everything. I thought it was normal, because that’s all I knew. And until I was 16, I often asked my grandfather for permission for all kinds of things. And that was okay, but it was even better to make myself independent of that.

Being independently minded and having the resources to pursue what I want, when I want, with whom I want is an important thing for me. Early on I observed that he who has the money, gets to call the shots. So naturally I wanted to be the one with the money. Because then I call the shots. That’s how little Dennis’ thinking worked.

But what does all of that have to do with permission and writing? Because of this way of thinking, I’ve been focused on stuff that produces measurable financial outcomes. “Giving myself permission” is associated with a sense of guilt, shame, shouldn’t I be doing something else? The persistent feeling of needing someone to say it is ok. By the time I brought it up to my writing coach, I already knew I wanted to get rid of that feeling. And at the same time I was afraid to get rid of it. Kind of like an outdated program, it used to help me. But now it limits me more than it helps.

Guilt is another thing that I became more conscious of as something that influenced me. And still does from time to time. I had to ask myself, why would I even feel guilty about wanting to spend time writing? I feel guilt going into the sweet candy room and indulging in a pack of chocolate, the big Milka one, a package of Kettle chips and then hitting the fridge straight and getting the Häagen Dazs ice. I know it’s not good for me. I almost feel ashamed of it and yet I do it. I had a similar feeling with writing, but with writing I think it’s actually something that is good for me. So why that sense of guilt? I still sometimes have my grandfather echoing in the back of my mind.

What I mean with “giving myself permission” to write is dependent on the time of day and my context. So during “work hours” during the week (mainly 8am-6pm) I feel like I need to give myself a special permission to write instead of going after more clearly tangible activities that contribute directly to growing Valuent (my company).

I didn’t really challenge the notion that “Brotlose Kunst” might still be worthwhile, or that the whole idea may be misdirected until recently. All I want to say is, I struggle with this. But I write. And for now I am ok with that answer. But what do I mean when I say I need to give myself permission? As an adult there is no one I need to ask for permission. That’s a bit scary.

I don’t know how to express this but there are multiple Dennis in me. And I feel some sense of obligation to them. Which is kind of funny, because I am sort of one person, right? But there’s this Dennis that wants to play, more like a 5 year old who’s excited to explore the world and learn. Doesn’t care about making a living, just follows his curiosity. Then there’s a Dennis who thinks he’s had a pretty privileged upbringing and gotten exposure to people who loved work and saw it as the greatest most worthy thing to do in the world (like my grandfather) and a Dennis who got to go to Silicon Valley at 16 years old. I cannot unsee that stuff. And it got me really excited and I feel like with all that exposure, good health, a good network, high level of energy and curiosity and living in a peaceful part of the world, there’s a certain sense of obligation to contribute. And that contribution is my entrepreneurial endeavor. And there’s probably a few more Dennis’s… there’s the after 6pm Dennis, who if he doesn’t brush his teeth by 8pm is at risk of eating unhealthy (much less than I used to though). So all these Dennis’s… as if one wasn’t already more than enough.

I don’t want to make this essay about guilt, but I also don’t want to forget where I’m coming from. Part to remind myself of the progress I’ve made, part also to see whether there is anyone else out there who may have similar feelings. Maybe you already overcame them or not yet, but have a hunch that it’s holding you back or it’s just not a thing for you?

So acting from guilt is what got me here. But I don’t think it’s what will get me to the next level. So I let it go. I give myself permission when one inner Dennis tells the rest of Dennis, “Dude, it’s ok, you got this, you will somehow figure it out. This writing stuff is interesting. Do your calls and stuff, but something will come out of this writing. And if you feel like it, you do it. So yes you feel that pressure in your chest, but it’s ok and maybe you don’t even have to feel it. Why don’t you give yourself in fully and just write?” Easier said than done, and I still sometimes struggle. But I struggle a lot less, and get to express myself a lot more.