There was a time when writing felt natural to me. Thoughts flowed easily, and expressing ideas did not feel like effort. Somewhere along the way, life became busy, priorities shifted, and writing slowly faded into the background.
Recently, I found myself thinking about that lost connection. Not just with writing, but with creativity itself. I realised that writing was never only about words — it was about clarity, reflection, and understanding my own mind.
Starting again was not easy. Doubts appeared immediately. Questions like “Is it too late?” or “Will anyone read this?” kept surfacing. But despite the hesitation, something inside me kept pushing gently.
Writing again feels different now. More intentional. Less about perfection, more about honesty. I am no longer chasing flawless sentences; I am rediscovering my voice.
This is not just a return to writing. It is a return to a part of myself that I had unintentionally set aside.
