Having one today. I woke up feeling unexpectedly tired. Energy low. Slept in, hoping that would help. It kind of did.
Slowly got out of bed. Didn’t really want to write. My mind raced with excuses:
It’s okay to skip. It’s fine — just one day. Why write anyway? I don’t owe anyone anything.
And you know what? That’s all true.
But still… I’m here. I’m writing.
Why?
Is it because I don’t want to break my recent 21-day streak? Is it some kind of control thing?
At the start of the year, I began writing internal blog posts at work. No one asked me to. I just did it. A coworker once asked if I felt pressure to keep going. My answer was no.
And honestly? The same is true for this blog.
Sure, breaking the streak would be a small “oh well” kind of bummer. But that’s not why I’m doing this.
If I’m really honest with myself… I write because I feel better when I write. That’s it.
But better — in what way?
Not about myself. Just… better. Clearer. More centered. More "me".
Self
Not more important. Not more validated.
Just… better. Like stretching. Like cleaning. Like going for a short walk. The kind of better that makes the day feel a little easier. That makes me feel a little more like me.
It’s not an activity that’s tied to self-worth. More importantly, it’s not tied to identity.
Writing isn’t what makes me who I am. It’s not proof that I’m disciplined. It’s not a badge that says, “Look, I’m a writer.”
If I miss a day, I’m still me. No lesser. No different. No further from myself.
Writing just helps me return to myself. That’s all it is. A way to feel steady, grounded, and clear—not a test, not a scorecard.
It happens
Off days happen. To all of us.
When they do, your mind might scream at you to take a break. That’s normal. You should listen.
But before you decide what to do, ask yourself:
What do I genuinely want right now? Not for streaks. Not for ego. Not for obligation. Just for me.
Then do that. Your version of it. Whatever feels right, for today.
