I've written for many days now.
Some days I was lost.
Some days I was lightning.
But every time I showed up,
the words showed me something.
Even the quiet ones.
I used to think writing was easy.
It's easy to think —
but not always easy to write.
Your thoughts run fast…
but your fingers hesitate.
Still, I've learned this:
If you do it consistently,
if you keep showing up,
you can overcome that hesitation.
I thought writing was about being perfect.
Now I know — it's about being present.
It's not easy. It's not always fun.
But it's mine.
And it's real.
So, maybe the question isn't:
Can I be a writer?
Maybe it's:
Am I willing to keep becoming one?
And my answer is:
Yes.