Why Writing is Necessary for My Well-Being
What it really means to be a writer
I never dreamed of becoming a writer.
Reading. Reading was — and still is — my true passion. People are just more interesting in books, and the stories characters tell, and the adventures they live enlighten my world. The act of listening and reading is more appealing to me than living those same stories myself in the real world.
Despite all that, slowly — and almost naturally — I found myself writing. Not just because I enjoyed it, but because I needed to. I imagine those cliches of girls laying in their beds, scrawling in their pretty pink notebooks writing “Dear diary… “ and I can’t help but think they were onto something.
Writing down the words in my head helps me think. The thoughts that are zipping and zooming turning and circling in my mind are all of a sudden tangible things on paper. Something I can look at, face head-on instead of having them be these unidentifiable, shapeless beings that take up too much space in my head. I can vomit everything down on a piece of paper with no pressure of having it sound right or judged or dumb. The words I write in my journal are for my eyes only and need only make sense to me.
And when I write down what’s inside my head, I find that it really isn’t so different from what I’ve been reading. All along, I used to think writing was something highly skilled or the most creative people who had a way with words were allowed to do. But the more I write, and the more I read, I see how the use of words mean so much more.
I write to tell stories. I write to inform people. I write to reflect on my day. I write because writing is an act of expression.
All these different purposes for writing are all under the same umbrella of writing to express. I don’t need to have published a novel, have work in literary journals, or be a journalist to be a writer.
I write, and therefore, I am a writer.
Check out my personal blog, In Worn Pages, for more content about reading, writing, and books.
