Part of me has always been a writer.
When I was little, I used to get lost in books for hours and days, tumbling into far-off worlds, slipping backward in time, discovering adventures filled with magic and mystery. Moving from avid reader to storyteller was an easy transition when I found my way into writing in high school.
As a teenager, I filled notebooks with poetry and snippets and stories. Sometimes an idea began that was never finished; sometimes it rumbled to a disappointing close and received several attempts to properly end the story. Notebooks were a place to experiment and express myself and challenge the predominant narratives about history and how we should think about the world.
Somewhere between college, more college, and grad school, I discovered blogging. Here was a world of writing where I could play and share stories — stories that people actually read.
The Real Origin of My First Blog
I was working a part-time corporate job and mentoring a group of summer interns. One day, one of them mentioned that she had a blog, this collection of posts on a website that people read. This was back in 2007, and “blog” was not part of our common vocabulary. I was fascinated by this. Even better, I thought I could use this to my advantage.
And so I started my blog with its secret purpose: to flirt with this hot guy I worked with. Clearly, my writing would be so captivating and charming that he wouldn’t be able to resist me.
Long story short, my flirting experiment completely failed, but I was hooked on blogging and connecting with people through posts and comments.
Success — and Failure
Two years later, I moved to San Diego for grad school. I was blogging every day, sometimes twice a day. My blog had a bit of everything: best finds on the internet, stories, “daydreams” as I called them, great interior design inspiration, original photos from my adventures around Southern California.
I was even named one of the best San Diego blogs by San Diego Magazine. I knew people and people knew my blog. (I was even one of the first people to use Pinterest, thanks to my sweet blog connections.)
As I soon discovered, a full load of classes and teaching, combined with writing papers and keeping up with my blog started to feel like a lot. But what really broke me was the realization that I had started to plan my life to create content for my blog, all with the goal of staying original and relevant. Even on my month-long cross-country road trip, I found myself pressured to capture every detail of my journey, not for myself, but simply to have new content to share. My blog started to fade.
A decade of tension
I’ve written and posted online since that time, but I’ve never really written in the same way that I did with my blog. The pressure to create content for my blog transformed into the pressure to create content for my business. Not only did you have to share your creativity, you seemingly had to display every aspect of your life for public consumption. So I resisted.
A few times, I tried to start a newsletter regularly, promising myself that this time it would stick. But I was operating from “should”s about my writing and business.
When I did write, I let it be for myself.
I wrote about my mother after she passed, pouring my emotion and love and grief into a piece about her. I collected memories of my cat Hugo after he left this world. Writing was a place for me to process and remember and be vulnerable and celebrate moments in my life.
It took a decade to become mine again.
The biggest lessons I’ve learned from writing
Don’t wait for inspiration. You need to get your butt in the chair and start writing really shitty first drafts. Once you have the draft, the inspiration comes in waves from there. Show up and show you're committed and your creativity will rise to meet you from there.
Don’t force it. It sounds like a contradiction of #1 (the best truths have an edge of contradiction to them), but if you’re really not feeling it or if you’re forcing it for all the wrong reasons, it’s okay to take a break. I had a gratitude journal practice where my minimal entry was three words. The threshold of showing up can be low, as long as you show up (and even if you only show up for yourself).
Don’t let anyone else tell you which stories are “worth it”. I’ve created too much based solely on the input from others, even though there was a bigger story in my heart that I wanted to share. The magic comes from the stories that you are called by your own inner longing and desire and intuition to bring into this world.
Don’t put yourself in a box (and don’t let anyone else put you in a box). Write a haiku today, a short story tomorrow, a keynote the day after that. Write one glorious sentence that you love. Write just for yourself, write for your clients, write for a broader audience. Experiment. Play. Allow every aspect of yourself to emerge.
Don’t worry if you start then stop then start again. There are no false starts. Honor the calling, the impulse, the time you need rest, the recalibrations. Honor yourself.
I’ve felt called to write again and share. There are stories I want to tell about business and life and the intersection of the two.
Welcome to the first step. A new start.
False Starts and Confining Boxes
Yes, you are here! I love everything you write. This is my fav part: "Don’t let anyone else tell you which stories are “worth it”. I’ve created too much based solely on the input from others, even though there was a bigger story in my heart that I wanted to share. The magic comes from the stories that you are called by your own inner longing and desire and intuition to bring into this world." Can't wait for more musings!