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Love, Smallest Soul: To a Fellow Writer

My gorgeous friend Scarlett recently asked me what my writing goals for the year were and one of mine was to write more letters, Another was to blog at least TWICE a month. I know. Outrageous. 
I'm not trying to kill two birds with one stone or anything (okay shhh) but this is a little series that I've been wanting to do for a while on the blog, a side series of letters from the heart. Some sent, some abstract articulations of  previous conversations that re-wrote themselves in my head, some letters I needed to write and to read back to myself, some things I never said but wanted to.

Dear Faraway Friend
I read what you wrote today and it was brilliant.
You told me that no one told you how hard it would be to write about your feelings.
I could have told you that.
What no one tells you is that it's hard, but its good.
It's hard in the same way that truly good things are also hard.
Relationships, adventure, caring about other people, telling the truth. If they were easy they wouldn't be worth doing.
The thing about personal writing that no one tells you is that it's kind of like removing your own tumour.
There is such a lot of life happening to you and around you and without you realising, you're effected or affected
And feeling those things and living though those situations grows into this tumour like thing, it is equal parts 'you' as it is 'other'
Now not to say the tumour is life threatening - lets say that it's harmless
But it's there, under your skin and you're feeling it and working your way through it and how to cope with it.
Sometimes your learn to live with it and it becomes a part of you, or it goes away over time. But you can metaphorically run your finger over it, feel it under your skin, press where it hurts, ignore it if you want to.
But writing about it
That's removing it in a way.
It's careful, complex, honest work that requires a steady hand and a willingness to cut into the issue even though it might hurt, even it threatens to bleed out more that you thought it would.
you are totally right in that its meditative and cathartic and there's relief that comes when its out.
The work is done
The thing that's been a part of you is now processed and transformed into this piece of writing,
and weather it's "good enough" for public consumption is effectively redundant.
It happened to you. You felt it, you lived it, you processed it, you wrote about it.
You released it.
What other people will think is the equivalent of how people view your scars
As something freaky and raw or something admirable and in their own way beautiful
It's a shift in thinking; writing for yourself instead of writing for public consumption
The fun of it and the importance of writing for me has always been about the process and not the product - I have more unpublished posts than published ones because writing these half finished pieces, these scraps and notes and scribbles of nonsense sometimes feel like enough.
Its not about the writing, the writing is just the vehicle to get the thing out.
But there IS a joy and a thrill in releasing that thing that's been held so close out into the world and being a part of a wider conversation about life what it means to be where you are doing what you're doing at this exact point in time.
And people connect with it more than you realise. Not everyone will get it, but I'm constantly humbled by the conversations I get to have that are triggered by things I've read or written
Keep writing friend. With a steady hand.
Love, Smallest Soul.


  1. So true. So true. Love it girl. Can't wait for your next one XO

    1. You are so sweet! Thanks for the nudge xx

  2. Cried. I feel it all! Thanks for writing this one. X