Last week on a trip to California, I admitted to myself in conversation with my closest girlfriends that I have been using Instagram as a form of resistance, as a painkiller, to avoid being with myself.

Last night, my creative resistance came to a head. I've been resisting doing my work for weeks, my mind finding any excuse to avoid sitting down and writing my story.

“She finally surrendered to the Flow when she realized that her deepest desires and dreams were simply memories from the future.” -Loren Trlin

I learned about the concept of resistance in Steven Pressfield's The War of Art (which I'll never be able to recommend enough to anyone) and had since been on a quest to understand what it actually is, where it grows from within me, what exactly the force is that prevents me from creating what I dream about most.