When the Writer Notices the Reader
Most of us write journals the same way we breathe—quietly, instinctively, without performance. We write not because we want to be read, but because we need to place our thoughts somewhere outside our heads. A journal is a private room. No audience. No expectations. Just us and the page.
And yet, even in those pages, there are thoughts we never write. They keep circling in the mind—unfinished, unfiltered, unnamed. They exist as a constant hum in the background.
The moment writing shifts from a journal to a blog, something changes.
Suddenly, there are readers—real or imagined. And with them comes caution. Words still come, but they arrive dressed carefully. I find myself thinking: How will this be read? Will it be misunderstood? Will it be liked? These questions hover, making me hesitant, a little scared.
But only in the beginning.
Because once I write for a while, something loosens. The fear softens. There comes a point when I forget the reader again—when the writing takes over and honesty returns. It feels much like life itself. Everyone carries a perspective. Some people resonate with us, some don’t. Some appreciate, some critique, some remain indifferent.
Criticism exists, yes—but it needs mindfulness on both ends. To offer it mindfully, and to receive it mindfully. When done that way, it doesn’t wound; it teaches.
And then there’s the question we’re often afraid to ask aloud: What if readers don’t like it?
That, too, is okay.
We often forget that we don’t write for everyone. We write for those who pause, who read, who feel something stir—even slightly. There are many who won’t read at all, and that is also part of the ecosystem of words.
These thoughts return to me often—especially when I sit down to write a blog. The quiet tug-of-war between honesty and hesitation. Between self-expression and self-consciousness.
And perhaps that is the writer’s true space—not fearless, not guarded, but mindful. Writing anyway. Sharing anyway. Letting the words find who they are meant to find.
Whenever I write anything I think about it a lot. Its completely opposite to your style mam. I think that there is a third person who will someday read this(even though i know someone wont because its a personal diary). I dont why but thats how i go about it.
ReplyDeleteI understand the fear of sharing one's work as you mentioned deeply, and somewhat painfully. It's a battle of extremes, one wanting the words to reach, another scared of the words that would reach in return. It's so easy to write unabashed and unrestricted when I know it's for myself, but the moment I even begin to imagine another's perception of the same, it's as if those same words twist- words like "mediocre", "cringe", "too much", "too less" and everything else that calls my words and by extension myself a lesser writer than I'm presenting myself to be. It's like it leaves no room for failure or learning when others pass judgement on one's work. Reading your words, I admire your courage and devotion to literature ma'am, and I hope you don't let the fear of judgment ever suppress your love for writing.
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