Back in July 2020, I wrote a story about the difficulties I face while writing, being one of the few writers who write for themselves.

Six months in on this platform, I was heavily intimidated and disillusioned by others' strategies, success, and stories of what constitutes "good" writing.

I discussed my pain and feelings of doubt, where I would distrust even my brightest ideas, thinking that no one would want to read them.

I never expected my writing to do well, by popular standards. I just wanted to write honest stories that touch a few minds at a time.

Then, amidst throes of hopelessness, I received this comment from a fellow writer, who then also shared my piece a bunch of times.

"I think there are different kinds of writers, and it’s necessary for some writers to write for themselves, to voice stories that aren’t as well amplified in the community, and yours is one of them. 🍳 "

This comment helped me believe, know that someone is listening, and realize the values that I shouldn't take away from myself.

It helped me write more, and that's the greatest gift I could ever receive.

Here's a link to my story, if you want to read it: https://medium.com/journal-of-journeys/i-have-a-million-things-to-say-but-nothing-to-write-about-76811d709970