How to Write
It started, as many things do, with a question from a friend. One I’ve been asked before, and never answered well.
"How do you write so much?"
For a long time, I would say what many say: just start.
It was an easy answer. A quick way to move past the question. But recently, someone challenged me and I started to wonder if that advice has ever really helped anyone. It’s like telling someone who’s never cooked before to just make dinner. Technically true. But not really useful.
So I sat down. I let the question sit with me. And I began to think about how writing has shown up in my own life.
Writing has been one of the most meaningful parts of my adult life. Not because I set out to become a writer, but because I wanted to find a way to express myself. And for me, writing became the most natural form of expression. For others, it may be music, dance, sport, art, cooking or a myriad of other activities. For me, it’s writing.
Over the years, it has taken many shapes. Blog posts, books, newsletters. But also private notes I have never shared. Simple text messages to people I care about. Journal entries that no one else will read. Each of them, in their own way, is a form of writing.
Writing doesn’t have to mean publishing. It doesn’t have to mean performing. It doesn’t even have to mean being read. It can be a quiet act. A way to make sense of what’s going on inside. A way to turn a vague feeling into something that can be seen or understood.
I understand why writing can feel hard, especially for adults. In school, we learned how to write in order to get a grade. We wrote for a teacher, followed a structure, and moved on. We didn’t learn how to write for ourselves. We didn’t learn how to write in a way that was connected to our identity. And we certainly didn’t learn how to write for a wider audience, or how to build the confidence that comes with doing so.
As adults, writing begins to show up again, but in different ways. In texts, emails, reports, presentations. On social media, in bios, in captions. The stakes feel higher. The audience is wider. The expectations are louder. There’s a real fear of being judged. Of being misunderstood. Of being remembered for the wrong thing.
The pressure to be perfect can be overwhelming. If it’s not good, don’t share it. If it’s not perfect, don’t start. And so, many people don’t.
I used to think that writing was the hard part. But over time, I’ve come to see that writing is not the hard part. Thinking is the hard part. When I sit down to write and feel stuck, it’s usually because I haven’t done the work to think something through. Or, more honestly, I haven’t allowed myself to feel what I need to feel.
When I’m clear about what I believe, when I know what I want to say, when I’ve taken the time to sit with an idea or a feeling—then the writing flows effortlessly. The writing takes care of itself.
We all think differently. For some people, clarity comes through conversation, through engaging with others. For others, it comes through solitude, through quiet reflection. For me, it comes in the empty spaces. When I’m in the shower. Driving with no destination. Walking without my phone. Cooking a meal. Cleaning the apartment. These are the times when I notice ideas surfacing from within me. Not because I’m doing nothing, but because I’m tuning into myself
These spaces are often dismissed as unproductive. But they are full of insight. When the noise fades, what’s left is a chance to hear something that’s already there. Something waiting to be heard.
Writing hasn’t changed my life. Writing has helped me change my life. It has helped me see and understand myself more clearly. Hear myself more honestly. Trust myself more deeply. It didn’t happen all at once. But over time, writing has become a way for me to stay close to what matters. A way to remember who I am.
So when I’m asked how to write, I no longer say: just start. Now I say: make space.
Make space to think. To feel. To listen. That’s where writing begins. Because the words are already within. They just need a way out.
And that is how I learned to write.
