It’s been a year since I picked up a pen or in this case, typed on a computer. I always blamed the writer’s block or my inability to fluently voice out my concerns, desires, ambitions or anything worth talking about. So to fool myself, I said I was taking a break from writing (because honestly, how many times do we really take these breaks and actually write in the process? I know I don’t ). I didn’t technically journal though I spent most hours overthinking and trying to give reasons as to why I lost my zeal and passion, to either write poems or articles that spoke from my heart. I don’t think I’ve found enough reasons or enough plausible reasons that don’t make sound lazy. I still think there are a lot of unsaid and unanswered questions but today I chose to force myself back into what I once felt ‘home’. I chose to give myself one more chance to this: to believe in myself. To find me. To own my truth. To live authentically. To just be. To breathe and not worry whether whatever I put out will be liked or not. I just want to be proud of every little step and progress I make because I have come a long way and I deserve some accolades (*in my Igwe Tupac’s voice).
So here’s to why I really stopped writing.
- I needed writing to not just be my safe space but to be a mode of life.
I still remember when I started blogging. I needed to vent. I was angry. And being in a world where there are so many tools available for you to express yourself, I picked up writing. I am a natural when it comes to this. But I chose it for the wrong reasons and obviously, at some point in time, anything that sprouts from bitterness has to be cut off. I had to refocus. I had to go back to my roots and ask myself why I wanted to do this in the first place. Do I really wanna spend my life writing about every misfortune, misunderstanding or heartbreak I’ve been through? Do I really wanna spend my life focusing on every single bad thing that has happened or is happening to me? What legacy was I leaving? You may refer to your past or any event because it taught you lessons and you wanna learn from them. But spending time dwelling on those events is just a toxic behavior. I no longer want that neither for myself nor my art. I want to look back and see my mistakes but not let them define me. I need growth. I deserve peace. And so today, hopefully, and with a lot of devotion, perseverance and an incredible amount of self-work, my writing will come from a place of serenity and maturity.
2. Fear of not being liked or not writing about your ‘typical’ stories.
One of the reasons we ain’t flourishing is because we keep comparing our lives with others
I look up to a lot of writers. Kamga Tchassa, Awanto Margaret, Portrait d’une Leslie, Ameaka, Hesley Fonane, Sabine (@sabbiiiine on Twitter) because their writing is just so raw and flows so naturally. I tried writing like them (don’t judge me) but here’s the thing about art, you can’t try to reproduce someone else’s. It just feels off. Art can’t be stolen. It’s just felt. That’s why everyone has a signature and everyone’s writing is different yet unique. I’m now learning to be inspired and then find my own voice. Find my own style or genre or niche. Because there is a place for each and every one of us. And we all so talented and full of resources. Thank you to the writers who do what they do. Some of us are better today because of you.
3. I was lazy.
I’m not even ashamed no more. I just didn’t want to write and sitting back, I realize I have killed so many good posts just because ‘I just didn’t feel like it.’ Most times we are our own enemies. Not what people say or do but what we stop our very own selves from accomplishing. We hinder ourselves so much and then we blame procrastination. As a writer, you’ve got to discipline yourself and always shoot to be better. As a human being in general so I guess above all things, I need to learn discipline and actually want to write as if my life depended on it.
So, your girl is back and she is better and I cannot wait to be more creative to you guys. Have a nice day.