why do you write?

why put yourself through the stress of writer’s block? why do you spend hours pouring your soul into a piece only to never end up publishing it? why even write at all?

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

- Maya Angelou

Maya Angelou in 1982. from @ drmayaangelou on Instagram

Writing can feel like such a task sometimes. For me, no hobby feels as unattainable and draining than writing does. As much as I love it, there are times I have hated writing. Sometimes I struggle to know why I bother, why do I put myself through the stress of writer’s block? Why do I spend hours pouring my soul into a piece only to never end up publishing it? Why even write at all?

Upon reflection, it is partly because writing has been there for me in the lowest and the highest moments of my life, whether that be heartbreaking journal entries after my dad died, or little scrapbook pages I made after I watched my best friend give birth - I have loved writing and I have hated it, but it has always been mine.

Sometimes, writing has been the only constant I’ve had.

I first began journalling at the age of 7 which means I have been at this for over 20 years now, I have journalled through the majority of events that have occurred in my life. In primary school, when asked what I wanted to do once I finished school, I was the only child in my class to reply with: “become a writer”.

As a teenager, I fell in love with blogging. I had a blog on WordPress that I excitedly updated with book reviews, life updates, poetry and fiction writing, and more. Unfortunately, I was being badly bullied at the time and the bullies from school found it and made fun of me for it. I stopped writing for many years as the fear of being perceived became too intense, especially for someone who was already naturally anxious. As I grew older that dream never wavered, but like with most things, life just got in the way.

This year, though, I realised I had nothing else to lose. I hit rock bottom, and like all those other times, writing was what I instinctively turned to. And the reception has been wonderful. I’ve felt more myself again, and knowing some of you have reached out to me and told me that my words have impacted you positively in some way…well, that means more than I can convey.

Like I have said, I have dabbled in different writing forms, whether it be blog posts or formal articles for the university newspaper, or fiction writing for book projects that I pour my heart and soul into for months then never share with anyone…whatever form it may be, writing has always been the answer to so many of my problems.

And yet, it is the hobby I am most unsure about. Maybe it’s because my writing is what I care about more than anything, but I find I often grow embarrassed when telling people about my writing, despite that being my goal since the age of 7, the shame of being made fun of by peers has just never quite left.

But in the spirit of this being the year I try new things, I need to remember there is a place for everyone within the writing world and I have done my best to carve my own space. I think it’s time I accept that I’m not just writing, I am a writer. And I always have been.

So now, when asking myself “why do you write?”

I will answer;

I write because I want people like me to feel represented and to find comfort in my words. I write because my brain is full of rushing thoughts 24/7 and I need a place to pour them into. I write because I have spent so many years stitching pieces of myself back together again and I need to make a home for all the shards. I write because I want to leave my mark on the world after I’m gone.

I write because I have no choice but to.