As a kid, I was obsessed with writing. I dreamed about becoming a young author and publishing books. To show that I was serious, I wrote 100 short stories! Each got lost with time. I remember one story about two girls—one simple and humble, the other arrogant and rude, who took pride in her dance skills. I don’t need to share the full details here because you can probably guess who won the dance competition.
Though I cringe when I think of those stories and my early passion for writing, lately I have started to feel something more: a sense of frustration. I chose Arts and Humanities in Grade 11 because I was certain writing and literature were my path. But life had other plans. I fell in love with Economics during Grades 11 and 12 and ended up majoring in it. My interest in Economics naturally extended to Business and Entrepreneurship.
This, however, is not the source of my frustration—you can have multiple interests, and pivoting is the only constant. The discomfort comes from how difficult writing has become for me over the years. I started writing on this platform to participate in monthly writing competitions. I wanted to sound intellectual and produce quality content; hence, my language in those pieces was… flowery.
The topics I chose were ones I was genuinely interested in, but when I tried to express my ideas, I saw a mismatch between the version in my head and the words on the page. I continued thinking it was just writer’s block. It has been a long time since I have written anything outside school or college work. I wasn’t getting better, and I picked up writing less and less after my first few articles. Now, I believe I have around seven articles on this platform—and I am not proud of them.
I had the urge to delete all of them and start over, but later I decided against it. Whatever work I have produced is still a piece of my effort and interest. Now, I want to improve from here without disregarding my starting point.
Artificial Intelligence is improving every day… well, every minute. I became so accustomed to using AI to write emails, messages, and college assignments that when I tried to write my own cover letters, I struggled. Spoiler alert: this was not my wake-up call. I kept using AI for my everyday needs until one day, when writing an article titled “Love is Not the Message Anymore”, I finally faced the truth.
This article was inspired by a concept we discussed in Sociology class: the medium in which you receive a message changes how you perceive it, leading to various consequences. For example, take love letters—you perceive the same message differently when someone texts you on WhatsApp versus receiving a handwritten letter. Marshall McLuhan explored this idea in his work The Medium is the Message. I wanted to reflect on it in my article and tie it to online dating culture.
In theory, it was a wonderful idea, seemingly an interesting read. But when I revisited it a few weeks later, I felt confusion. The article seemed confusing even to a fresh pair of eyes. That grew my frustration.
I am an inquisitive person. I try my hand at many things—reading, crafting, watching movies, listening to podcasts—and there’s so much I want to share, from academic to personal interests. One reason my previous articles were average is that I tried to cover all aspects, provide a full picture, and make sure I was right. While these are important habits, I tend to take them to the extreme: researching too much and jotting down too many ideas. By the end, it all sounds like gibberish to me, and I lose my original train of thought.
But this article isn’t about my struggles with writing; it’s about acknowledging that I have outgrown myself and am ready for a new approach. For when you outgrow something, you find a new self, a new way.
From here on, I want to present my most authentic and curious self: present, well-read, inquisitive, and without any pressure to perform. Expect candid pieces reflecting my love for many things, shared one by one. I want to give honest effort and build a community of like-minded people.
I’ve seen people take up challenges on social media—“30 days of posting every day,” “30 days of starting a side hustle,”—and I am truly inspired by this trend. I want to take my own small challenge: one post every week for the rest of the year. No hard rules, no set dates—just showing up every week to share something that is truly mine. Thought my way, done my way.
This challenge sounds daunting and already fills my mind with “what-ifs.” But it is not about consistency; it is about showing myself what lifting the pressure and simply showing up feels like.
Follow along for my journey here, and remember to take everything with a pinch of salt!