I’m a writer. Or I was a writer.
Then…life happened. And I had to stop writing.
It’s not been all bad. On the contrary, some of the hiatus has been for good things.
But I had to reprioritize my life, and writing was one of the things that I chose to pause. Now, after a few years, I am reprioritizing it higher again. I still don’t have tons of time for it like I did before. The wellspring of creativity is also a little dry.
So my writing sessions are short, much shorter than they used to be. And admittedly it’s not fun yet. I’m still trying to get there.
And yet, experience has taught me that when you fall out of the habit of something you love, you might start to think you no longer love it, when in reality you’ve simply forgotten how to give yourself the time and energy to love it again. You replace that time of “doing something you love” with other things. The other things could be a wide assortment of stuff. It could be important things, like family or friends, career, medical illnesses, anything. It could also be unimportant things (I don’t think I need to list any of these).
Thus, while this is difficult to do, and right now it doesn’t feel fun, I know the practice will eventually reawaken the skill. And once I’m in the groove of writing again, the enjoyment will return.
So I’m a writer, once again.