On Not Writing

Pet peeve: when people start blogs with ‘I’m sooo sorry guys, I haven’t posted in sooo long. I feel so guilty [insert other OTT emotional responses for not writing to a mostly imagined audience who are not remotely bothered not to have heard from you in the past week, month, year].

But seriously, I feel guilty.

I think that’s because I wrap my whole identity up in this ‘writer’ facade, and once that’s online and in the public arena, you’ve got nowhere to hide when you reveal yourself as all words. Irony.

Looking back on the past year I can see such immense emotional growth that I’m also saddened that I didn’t document it has it unfurled. Vision is 20/20 in hindsight.

So, I had a baby. A beautify baby boy called Adham James, who I can’t imagine life without, and who has had such a profound effect on my life and those around me (But this is not that kind of blog.) I also moved to Amman (with in-laws, still all living together), and I began working as a writer for an NGO. Now my baby is three months old, I’ve also begun working as a web content editor which gets me out of the house and helps me feel like I’m financially responsible.

In two years I got married, had a baby, became a working mum. It feels weird, because I also feel like a baby. But what has it meant for my (lack of) writing? Well, I guess you could say I write for a living…? That might be pushing it a bit, but I kind of have achieved that dream as far as it was ever going to take me. I think I realised along the way that I’m not a writer; I don’t have a special way with words, and I often don’t understand the mechanics behind words. I think there’s something much more egocentric at play there, and I don’t think I’m the only lit grad guilty of that.

Actually, if I could go back and do my studies all over again, I would rather work to my strengths and do something in design. Perhaps that’s what I love about words – creating something beautiful from nothing. Black words appear on white paper, and with no effort at all, I’ve created something. Regardless of the content. It would feel a whole lot more authentic if the creation was organic and honest, unlike a string of words stuffed together.

But saying all that, I plan to continue indulging in this fantasy, stringing together words that look pretty, drinking my Starbucks, and taking candid Instagram photos.


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