Losing and finding my passion for writing

For as long as I can remember, writing has been my refuge. Words poured out of me effortlessly, weaving stories and expressing emotions I often struggled to articulate aloud. It was more than a hobby; it was my identity. But a few years ago, I found myself staring at a blank screen, my fingers hovering above the keyboard, unable to summon the words that once flowed so freely. My passion for writing had evaporated, leaving me adrift and questioning my very essence.

It began subtly, a gradual decline in my enthusiasm. Deadlines felt like chains rather than motivators, and the joy of crafting sentences turned into a chore. I told myself it was a phase, something all writers go through. Yet, as weeks turned into months, I realized this was more than just a creative slump. The spark that once ignited my imagination was gone, replaced by a dull, oppressive void.

I tried everything to rekindle the flame. I read books by my favorite authors, hoping their magic would inspire me. I read reviews from people who adore me. I sought guidance and camaraderie from fellow writers. I even experimented with different genres and styles, but nothing worked. The more I forced myself to write, the more it felt like an insurmountable burden. My passion, the one thing that had always defined me, seemed lost forever.

Desperate and disheartened, I decided to take a break. I put away my notebooks, closed my laptop, and stopped pressuring myself to produce. It felt like giving up, but in retrospect, it was the best decision I could have made. Without the constant stress of unmet expectations, I began to explore other interests. I traveled, met new people, and experienced life in ways I hadn’t allowed myself to before. I started journaling, not with the intention of creating something profound, but simply to record my thoughts and feelings. I have sooooo many blogs!

It was during one of these journaling sessions that I had a revelation. Writing didn’t have to be perfect or for an audience. It didn’t have to be anything but an honest expression of myself. The pressure to produce had stifled my creativity, and by letting go of that pressure, I slowly began to rediscover my love for writing.

Since, I've been starting small. I write about my travels, capturing the essence of new places and the people I meet. I pen down random musings, snippets of dialogue I overhear, and descriptions of moments that move me. Without realizing it, I am writing again—not for publication, not for validation, but for the sheer joy of it. The words flow naturally, unburdened by expectation.

The other day, I stumbled upon an old draft of a story I had abandoned during my creative drought. I read it with fresh eyes, and to my surprise, I felt a familiar twinge of excitement. Ideas started bubbling up, and I found myself itching to rewrite and expand it. That story, once a symbol of my failure, has become the bridge to my renewed passion. I have been ENGROSSED in it.

Looking back, losing my passion for writing was a painful, yet necessary part of my journey. It taught me to let go of perfectionism and external validation, to find joy in the process rather than the product. Today, I write with a newfound appreciation for the craft, savoring each word and the freedom it brings.

Writing, like any passion, ebbs and flows. It’s not a constant, unchanging force but a dynamic, evolving part of who we are. Sometimes, it requires stepping away to gain perspective, to grow in other areas of life, and to return with a deeper understanding of ourselves. Losing my passion for writing was one of the hardest experiences I’ve faced but finding it again has been infinitely rewarding. It’s a testament to the resilience of creativity and the enduring power of words.