Every day I have a desperate urge to write and every time I sit down to write, nothing comes out. It feels like more than writer’s block.
When I first started blogging, I wrote about my work with kids on the spectrum. Not a lot of people were writing about that wonderful population at the time, and many reached out and said they got helpful ideas from what I wrote, and that made me happy.
Then I started writing about my life with anxiety during a time where nobody was writing about anxiety, and I was this big Truth-Teller, and people came out of the woodwork to tell me how brave I was, that they had anxiety too, that they could relate, that my bravery in sharing made them feel less alone and less stigmatized. And that was amazing. Except now – anxiety is just something widely accepted, that everyone has, that every celebrity talks about, that people admit to, that really isn’t stigmatized much at all anymore. So, why bother writing about it?
And then, again, I became this Brave Truth-Teller when I started writing about sexual assault, and yet again, people came out of the woodwork to tell me “me too” and share their experiences and say that me writing about it helped them talk about it or acknowledge it, and it was amazing and I connected with people and felt like again, I was making a difference. Except now, again, everyone is talking about it. Between the “me too” movement and the Kavanaugh hearings, and the USA gymnastics, and Time’s Up Now, it’s EVERYWHERE. And that’s amazing too, and I’m glad it’s so public, and while I know that there are still plenty of people keeping it a dark shameful secret, it’s so out there in the media that is there really any point to little tiny insignificant me writing about it more?
And so now I feel stuck. Blogging to me used to feel like this exciting, brave thing I was doing, because I knew how many people I was reaching and impacting. I would sit down and think, “What would one of my younger selves – my 7-year-old self, my 15-year-old self, my 28-year-old self, need to read?” and then I would write it. Because nobody else was. But what do I write about now? Do I stick with those same topics and carry on, hoping there are still people out there who will benefit? Do I write about boring and mundane topics like the fact that I’m still a sensitive person blah blah blah and motherhood is amazing and exhausting blah blah blah and here is how I’m managing my anxiety blah blah blah? Or do I stop? I really just wonder if I did my thing, made my difference, and now it’s time to let this blog go.
2 comments
You have a unique way of seeing, interpreting, and expressing your world, regardless of how many others are writing about similar things. True writers need to write, and you are a gifted writer. If blogging isn’t working for you now, write something else!
I love what you write – I have for 15 years :) You are right that much of what you write about is now spoken about in the media – but there is a power in it coming from “little tiny insignificant you.” I would rather read what you say than what a celebrity says because I am also a “little tiny insignificant me” so I relate more to you. I doubt I’m alone in this. I think it’s so powerful that celebrities are speaking out, so this is no shade to them; they have a massive platform and are making a difference! I just feel more of an impact when I read the words of someone like me.
All of that said, you have shared so much and done so much good with your blog; if writing isn’t as exhilarating as it once was, or if it is no longer bringing you the joy it once did, it is okay to stop, even if only temporarily until you feel inspired again. Sometimes I go back and read your archives. You have a gift and have touched many and we love you for it.