Write Something Beautiful Before You Die
Let yourself be read
Today I cried while reading a personal essay. It was one of those stories that makes you take a sharp breath as you narrow your focus, eyes darting side to side as you take it all in.
When I finished I sat in silence for a moment. I thought back to the version of myself who was too scared to write because she thought other people would judge her.
The person who would overshare to a group of casual friends and wished she hadn’t after observing their confused looks. The person who wrote poems in her notes app and kept them there.
But this author wasn’t afraid of judgement. He wrote about sexuality and trauma and illness. Things that would send an emotionally constipated person into a coma.
I blinked and was back in the present day. As the person who has written equally vulnerable stories and shared them with the world. The person who was still scared of being judged, and published her words anyway.
I’ve never regretted anything I’ve written or published.
I have wished I had started writing sooner.
I used to think writing was dangerous. That if I said my truth, someone would punish me for it.
But the only thing that ever hurt me was silence.
Life is strange, and treacherous, and beautiful. It swallows you whole and spits you out. It’s painful and sweet and dangerously delicate. It hurts, it soothes, and then it hurts again.
But there is no better antidote to the human experience than making art.
Painting, dancing, sculpting, singing—writing.
Most writers who come to me are not struggling to write technically. They're struggling to allow themselves to write honestly.
They forget that writing is breathing, the thing ticking along in the background keeping you alive.
Which means every story left unwritten is a breath you didn't take.
Write something beautiful before you die.
You won’t regret it.
I promise.
Emily @ Healing Through Writing
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