20/20 Vision
On Michael Jackson, purpose and remembering why you started that thing.
I haven’t listened to anything but Michael Jackson since April 13th. Like most, I prepped myself for the long awaited release of the biopic, by getting completely lost in his entire discography. I mean, I tend to have a Michael Jackson crash out every quarter, so the discog deep dive was well and truly due.
I then saw the movie on April 25th, and since leaving the Ritzy in Brixton, my algorithm has not disappointed. It’s been two weeks of deep dives into MJ TikTok rabbit holes, rewatching all of his music videos and performances, geeking out over Moonwalker like it’s the very first time, reading about his process and his journey, his notebooks, his manifestations, his vision. I mean, we’re all doing it aren’t we? But for me, this resurgence and quiet obsession comes at a time that feels so much more urgent than just simply trend-following.
What struck me when watching the Michael biopic and seeing his journey unfold in real time through all of these additional TikTok content pieces, was how completely and utterly clear he was. He wasn’t just talented — he was clear. Everything he wanted to be, everything he wanted to achieve, he wrote it down. Michael was a powerful manifester. His vision was twenty twenty. He knew exactly who he was and what his gift was. Even more than that, he understood his gift as God-given, and that actually, it didn’t belong to him. His gift was not his to hoard and to keep. His purpose was bigger than him as a singular entity. God’s plan was always to use him as a vessel for music, for change, and for a message that needed to move through the world. He was crystal clear about this and so, never faltered.
I can’t tell you how much I needed that.
For some time, I’ve been quite clear about my own vision. I want a portfolio career. I’ve been working quietly toward it — I’m writing my novel, building things slowly and each day, refusing that corporate track just a little more, because it’s never really been who I am. That, I’ve been super clear on. However, lately, that clarity has been buried under some real heavy shit.
Work has been draining me — point, blank, period. I’m in a full-time role that takes a lot more than it gives, and it leaves absolutely no space for the things I actually came here to do. Towards the end of March, it got bad enough that I had to be signed off sick by the doctor due to stress. I was burnt all the way out, chile. Bunt out from the weight of holding it all together while my creative energy — the thing that gives me the most joy — suffered and shrank.
And with that came the voices, the questions and the imposter syndrome creeping in at any opportunity that it could.
What are you doing?
You’re kidding yourself with this, Lydia.
There’s no way anyone’s going to read your book.
You’re not a real writer.
I know at some point, every writer has heard and battled with these exact same voices. However, you still personalise it don’t you? Knowing that other writers experience the same doubt doesn’t make the voices any quieter.
Watching Michael, learning about his process and his absolute refusal to compromise on his vision has helped to centre me again. My current Michael obsession has reminded me that my purpose is so much bigger than this nine-to-five that’s been draining me. If my purpose is that big, and if I too, am to be a vessel, then I cannot let this, or any job take all of my energy anymore. I have to make a decision and make that absolutely clear: you’re not going to take that from me, because I have important work to do.
So I wrote myself a mantra. It’s just one sentence, but it will help to ground me in moments of doubt, and in the moments where I feel like giving up. Here it is:
This book is for those who are figuring shit out in their own time, and learning to love in the process.
That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s my why. This book that I’m writing is so much bigger than me. It’s a story for people who need to be seen, who need to be heard. And this is my reason for writing stories — the only thing I feel I’ve ever known how to truly do is use my words and communication as a vessel to experience the full spectrum of human emotion. To heal the inner child. I honestly feel like I’m not really that great at much else. So I’m calling it now. That’s what I’ve been put here to do.
Yesterday, I printed out everything I’ve written so far. One hundred and thirteen pages of paperback material, sitting in my hands in hard copy. Holding what I have created in my hands one hundred percent shifted something.
I’m not an imposter. I’m a writer. And the proof is right there.
Now, every time I finish writing a chapter of the draft, I’m printing it out and adding it to the ring binder, so I can watch my book grow, physically, month by month. Seeing the manuscript grow on paper rather than on screen, really just hits different. And for me, doing this was the visual manifestation of what Michael not only understood, but lived by — clarity, consistency and having an unwavering belief in your craft and purpose is what it means to achieve and leave a lasting legacy.
I don’t know how long it’ll take to finish my book. I’ve got many more months of this, of that I am sure. But I know the end will come, because this book is mine to write. And I know there’s people out there who need it.
If, like me, you were or still are in that doubt spiral right now — if you’re second-guessing yourself and feel like imposter syndrome is winning; if you’re exhausted from having to hold space for something that doesn’t deserve your energy — I really hope this piece lands for you.
We just have to keep pushing. We have to be as clear as Michael was and remember that we are vessels, each part of a wider plan to make this world a better place than the one we were born into. When we remember that, everything becomes clearer and hopefully, that little bit easier.
Twenty twenty vision. Always.