At this moment, I’m straight up burnt out on writing.
I used to think I’d never say that, but it’s the truth. The only time I ever write anymore is for money. I work a full-time job writing, and then I come home and write some more for freelance gigs. Then, once something is published (for money), I follow it in terms of shares, comments, likes, etc in order to feel validated as a writer. Don’t get me wrong, I love that I’ve been fortunate enough to stumble into a full-time position and some freelance jobs, otherwise my money situation would be bleak (well, bleaker than it already is).
But I miss writing because of passion. I miss writing because I had something to say and I had to get it outside of my own brain. I miss writing with the hopes of making a difference for someone. I miss getting lost in what I was working on and realizing hours had passed. I miss writing like I really meant it.
That’s not to say that I don’t mean what I write now, because I do. But it’s different when I’m writing for money. The words are more calculated. The content is more limited, more thought out. It has an editor’s touch instead of just my own. My writing is just not as raw and real as it used to be.
I’ve realized lately that much of my best writing has been born as a direct result of heart break or confusion. In other words, my current writing is paying the price because I am finally in a content, happy, adult relationship and I’ve found out who I am. I have no broken heart. I have no internal struggle. I have no tears. In fact, I really have nothing wrong at all. Life is good, and that means my writing suffers.
I have to say that I miss the raw writing that inevitably was born out of conflict and frustration. I’m now realizing that I need to learn how to take happiness and light and transform that into something meaningful. I need to learn how to use words to express myself when I feel lucky to be alive, lucky to have found love; not just when I feel like my world is coming down around me.
There is so much to be said about this world, and I want to say it. But while saying it, I want to remember why I wrote in the first place. I want to remember how it felt before it became about money, views, shares and comments. I want to go back to the way it was when I wrote for myself and myself alone.
I don’t mean that I am going to stop freelancing, because I’m not. What I mean is that I want that same feeling of completion and contentedness when I freelance as I had when I wrote a few years ago, before it became professional. I do believe I can get back to that point. It’s just going to take more focus and less rush.