I write because I was lost.
The identity that I had was gone. With all the things that I’ve been through the years of writing, this is the worse. Writing was a part of my body. It was a part of who I am. It completes me. But I shattered myself to pieces that I can no longer fix.
The fear of not being good enough consumed me. Jealousy ate my passion. I was comparing myself to other writers. I criticized them, making myself believe that I am better. I didn’t want to read other’s work because I know, deep inside me, I envied them.
I write because it makes me happy. But there was a time that writing was a nightmare for me. It became one of my greatest fears. I couldn’t face another article or another literary piece because I was afraid that it might flop. I wasn’t able to continue the stories I wrote because I didn’t have the drive to do so.
I never loved anything like how I loved writing. I was broken. It hurts more to lose your identity as a writer and your passion than to lose a guy. It was a devastating state where I thought I can no longer get it back.
As of now, I can slowly see the path back to what I used to be. When writing became my fear, I stood up and I faced it. I realized, losing writing in my system was just like the problems I had in life. If I didn’t have the courage to face it, I can no longer take it back. I was born to write. I was born to share stories to the world. And that is how I came running home to writing.
I write because writing is my identity.