why do i write?
i came across a substack note that said, maybe the key to getting better at writing is to read more essays and other substacks. i’m so sorry, i wrote this a month ago and i’m only just editing it, and i can’t find the original note now. i really tried, i should’ve just linked it when i was writing it. 😭
also i just hit a 100 subscribers and that’s what made me come back and finish writing this essay. hitting a milestone really makes you question; the past, the present and the future. why did i start writing? why have i continued to write and put myself out there? what will i post a few months or a year from now? will i even be online and posting then?
but the note got me thinking. maybe that's true—you have to put in some effort to get better, and it might as well be by supporting and encouraging other writers whom you enjoy reading. that little note opened up a bigger question in my mind: why do i want to get better at writing? better yet, why do i write at all?
it would be easy to say that there’s always been a writer in me and i’m just trying to satisfy him by writing as much as i can. but, honestly, i’m not entirely sure if that’s true. as i’m writing this, i’m also trying to come up with reasons that feel real, that feel honest. i think writing forces me to confront some deep, almost buried thoughts. is there someone i’m writing for? obviously, i have readers—but do you think there exists a concept like the one but for readers? like, is there someone particular out there for whom i’m writing, even if i don’t know it yet? it all sounds so stupid and juvenile and reaching-for-the-stars, i’m sorry.
but at the core, isn’t writing for a reason what we’re all trying to figure out? is there something i’m trying to achieve by writing? i mean, could it just be as simple as trying to get better at writing? is that a valid reason? and the most pressing question that nags at me: is writing my way of putting myself out there?
maybe this is where i start.
why do i want to get better at writing?
let’s start with the obvious one. i think wanting to improve at anything is a natural human instinct—especially something as personal as writing. there’s this unspoken rule that if you’re going to do something, you should strive to do it well, right? but writing is tricky. what even counts as getting better? is it about mastering technical aspects like sentence structure and flow, or is it about conveying emotions and ideas with more clarity and impact?
for me, i think it’s both. i want to learn how to make people feel something when they read my work. not just understand what i’m saying, but to really connect with it on some emotional level. and at the same time, i want to push myself to explore different styles and forms, to step outside my comfort zone. improving at writing doesn’t just mean writing more—it means reading more, thinking more, and pushing boundaries more.
that substack note that nudged me into reflection might have been onto something: reading essays and substacks from writers i admire does help me get better. it’s like absorbing pieces of their craft and seeing how they play with language or structure. so, yes, maybe part of this is about honing a skill. but it’s not just about the mechanics of writing—it’s also about discovering new ways to express myself. writing is a tool for self-growth, and getting better at it feels like a way to better understand my own thoughts, feelings, and experiences.
who am i writing for?
now, let’s get into the tricky part: is there someone i’m writing for? not just readers in general, but is there a specific person—real or imagined—whom my words are meant for? i’ve thought about this a lot, and the more i do, the less clear the answer becomes.
we often think of writing as a solitary act, but the truth is, there’s always some level of interaction between writer and reader, even if you don’t know who your readers are. the idea of having a “reader soulmate,” someone who gets your work on an almost spiritual level, sounds romantic and idealistic—but maybe there’s something to it.
i think it’s possible that i’m writing for someone who doesn’t even know they need my words yet. or maybe i’m writing for a future version of myself, someone who will look back and understand more about the person i am today. sometimes, i feel like i’m trying to communicate with someone out there—a specific reader whose identity i can’t quite pinpoint, but whose presence i feel when i write. they might never exist, but that doesn’t stop me from imagining them.
on the flip side, there’s also the idea that writing isn’t for anyone at all. maybe it’s entirely for me, as selfish as that sounds. but then again, doesn’t every writer hope that their words will resonate with someone else? i guess what i’m trying to say is, i don’t know exactly who i’m writing for, but i like to believe that there’s someone out there—whether they’re real or hypothetical—who will find what i write meaningful.
is there something i’m trying to achieve?
this is a tough one. what exactly am i trying to achieve by writing? is there a specific goal or outcome that i’m aiming for?
at the most basic level, i think i write to make sense of things. writing has a way of forcing clarity—it’s like trying to put a chaotic swirl of thoughts into neat lines on a page. sometimes, the act of writing is enough in itself, because it helps me process emotions or ideas that i might not fully understand otherwise.
but beyond that, there’s also a desire to connect. to create something that makes other people feel seen or understood. writing is a way of bridging the gap between my internal world and the external one, of saying, here’s what i’m thinking—does anyone else feel the same? in that sense, writing is about communication, even if it’s just communicating with myself. there’s something powerful in the idea of putting thoughts into words and sharing them, even if no one ever reads them.
maybe part of what i’m trying to achieve is simply the act of creation. the satisfaction of having written something that wasn’t there before, of making something real out of nothing but thoughts and language. or maybe i’m trying to create a record, a kind of written memory that will outlast me, even if it’s only in the smallest way.
is writing my way of putting myself out there?
here’s where the vulnerability kicks in. writing, in a lot of ways, is putting yourself out there. it’s taking pieces of your mind—your ideas, your emotions, your vulnerabilities—and setting them loose in the world for others to interpret. even if no one reads it, there’s a certain exposure in writing that feels deeply personal.
when i write, i’m showing parts of myself that i might not be able to express in other ways. i think writing allows me to be more honest than i can be in conversation or even in my own head. it gives me the space to say things that i might not be brave enough to say out loud, and in that way, it’s definitely a way of putting myself out there. it’s risky—sometimes terrifying—but it’s also freeing.
i guess the question is whether that’s my main motivation for writing. do i write because i want to be seen, or do i write because it’s the only way i know how to see myself? maybe it’s a bit of both. writing helps me explore who i am, but it also lets me show pieces of that person to the world, even if i’m not always aware of it.
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so why do i write? i wish there was a simple, all-encompassing answer, but i think the truth is more complicated. i write to improve, yes, but also to express, to connect, to understand, and to put myself out there. writing is a way of figuring things out—about myself, about the world—and maybe that’s the most honest answer i can give.
my reasons for writing might change over time, but for now, it’s about exploring the why as much as the what.
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