I’ve been writing since I was five years old, in fits and spurts. I remember being around seven years old and writing “SOMEONE POLLUTED THE EARTH” in big letters as we drove past a smokestack of some kind. I wrote stories and poems, and I’ve journaled semi-consistently.

But my public facing writing didn’t start until 2017, and it actually started with movie reviews. I did those for a few years, simply letting my many opinions out for anyone who wanted to hear. In 2019, I expanded to personal essays and travel articles during my international travels. Every piece I wrote while abroad hummed and sang with the spark. I was writing insightful, vulnerable commentary on my surroundings (Europe with 20 other college students is not for the faint of heart).

I wrote this blog on my original site about my overall writing journey, but I didn’t know then that my writing would become hollow.

Off and on for a few years, I wrote simply to follow a schedule, to describe an event or adventure, but I didn’t feel any magic in the words. They didn’t even draw me in, so how would they draw readers in? I’ve kept some of my lifeless pieces up because they’re more recent, or because they fit into a different niche of writing- travel or events or food.

But I knew my writing had lost its vibrancy, its spark, its life. All good writers know what I’m talking about. I would craft a piece and my editor would ask “what are we supposed to do with this information? So what? Why does this matter?” These weren’t insults, they were questions to invite me to develop my work. But I wasn’t ready or willing to develop my work then.

I don’t know what changed in the last weeks, but I can feel my writing spark returning. I feel a vulnerability and authenticity returning to my writing that’s been missing far too long. I welcome the spark back. I will do my best to encourage it without pushing it. For now, I’m grateful you’re along for the journey.