When Asked “Why”

A good friend recently sat me down and asked, “Why do you write? Why do you take those words and then post them to the internet? Why do you blog?” And for a few weeks, I was balancing that question in my thoughts, trying to pinpoint the very specific reason of why storytelling seems to pulse through my bloodstream. And in the process of re-evaluating what I do on this webpage, I figured out the “why” of it.


At the ripe age of six, clad in pinafore dresses and shined buckle shoes, someone put a pencil in my hand and a belief in my head that I could craft a story on a piece of blue-lined notebook paper, that the words I saw on the pages of books like Lady & The Tramp could one day be my own. They convinced me that all I had to do was write my thoughts down in my extra-large, swirly, heart’s over the lowercase i’s penmanship. And that was that.

And somewhere between creating an illustrated guide to the alphabet, writing a plethora of bad, angsty, middle-school poetry, and countless upon countless entries into diaries, I formed a certain Taylor Swift-esque outlook: I write to feel a cure. I have too many words written on my heart to leave jumbled up inside my head, and I write them down to feel some sort of therapy, some sort of justification to the fact that I pinned my heart to my sweater sleeve long ago and have no intention of hiding it away in my back pocket any time soon.

I’m a girl who reflects a pretty presentation, but also has numerous layers to be peeled away at, who cannot be summed up in a small number of words from Merriam-Webster’s. I don’t want to wrap the world up in a pretty bow and write my emotions off with an inspirational quote. I don’t want to disguise heartbreak with too many metaphors. I don’t want to run through the muddy waters of relationships alone with too heavy a heart. I want to pen the nitty and gritty details down and weave them into stories full of intricacy and vulnerability. And I want someone, somewhere to read these words I have harbored inside of me and say, “I feel it, too.”


This blog now has a Facebook page of its own, for anyone who has ever once liked the words that they’ve read here.
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9 thoughts on “When Asked “Why”

  1. I completely and totally understand! This is partly why I write a lot that I do not share with the internet. For me, sometimes I need it for personal catharsis more than anything else. Yet there is so much freedom in letting the world read your heart too.

  2. So well explained, I’ve been feeling the same way about my own writing and blog. No matter how hard life can get and how little time I have for blogging, I can not give it up.

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