Last weekend, a friend told me he’d noticed my writing voice had changed since I started this new blog. I didn’t realize people noticed (or even closely read it), and I confessed I had started this blog without a vision and was still struggling with it.

As I reflected on this, it led me to re-read some posts from Long Live the Twenties, a blog that I’d loved and for which I had a strong vision. Everything there felt so raw, and real, and me. This blog has cool reflections and travel stories, but to be honest, it doesn’t always feel like me.

I’ve been talking with friends recently about social performing and how, since moving to this city, we’ve felt a bit like actors. Maybe living in a different city would require us to put on a tougher face or be more cutthroat, but here, we’ve felt pressure to be more sensitive to others and “easygoing” in order to make friends and be liked. I have deep conversations and genuine friendships, but I’ve often felt like I’m playing a role or being subconsciously ignored or stifled because I’m trying so hard to remain pleasantly neutral.

I’m not usually a fan of holding things in, especially when something could be helpful feedback, because it can lead to gossip or negative perceptions rather than open and honest conversations. But being around people who became sad or upset whenever my blunt comments came out made me feel bad—bad about my words, bad about them, and bad about myself. Over time, it taught me to put on my public persona even in my private life in an effort to be accepted.

I suppose it’s the nature of my work, to be all things to all people. But that doesn’t mean I’m used to doing it in real life.

Let me tell you, it gets draining. I know I can do it in the work context, but when I feel like I can’t fully express myself or feel understood in my personal life, it’s exhausting. I realized recently I’ve been feeling incredibly dry creatively because I’ve been seeking reassurance and acceptance outside of myself from people who really can’t understand or relate to my artistic inclination and creative struggles. So when I was reading my old blog posts, full of wit, playful sarcasm, and angst as a twenty-something, I felt like I’d lost something over the years that I’m determined to find again.

I absolutely do not want a repeat existential rollercoaster ride (it took me a decade to get here, thank you very much), but I feel a new drive to try this creative thing once again. Even if I fail and never see my writing influencer dream come to fruition, I can at least try. Instead of looking for acceptance from the wrong people, I need to introspect, remember the core of who I am, and surround myself with the authors and artists who so inspired me once upon a time. And then I need to actually put myself out there.

I might not have as many existential struggles to write about nowadays (though ironically I’d count this creative identity crisis as one), and I am definitely a different person than I was then. But I’d like to think I still have that curious, deep, and playfully direct personality that fueled my voice in the past.

Finding one’s voice takes time and practice, and I want to use these posts of mine to do just that. I want to read more for inspiration and write freely in a way that’s honest to me. I don’t want to get stuck thinking about views or what people will think of me. This summer has felt like one long lesson in letting go of the rigid version of myself that I’ve allowed others to put on me, opening myself up to simply be, challenging myself to trust my gut instead of trying to fit myself into other people’s perceptions, and drawing inspiration from the people who display the qualities I want to embody.

Am I experiencing a real identity crisis underneath this writer identity crisis? Maybe. But I’ve felt so much happier and freer this summer than I have in the last several years as I discover more of who I want to become both in my every day life and in my creative pursuits.

If you’ve ever struggled to find your voice as a writer, I’m discovering it’s never too late to develop that or find it again if you lost it. One of my colleagues recently bought me The Book of Alchemy by Suleika Jaouad, and it couldn’t have been more timely. Staying disciplined with writing, reading, and even journaling, is admittedly difficult for me, but I’m excited to have somewhere to start to make my voice—and who I want to be creatively—clearer and more distinct.

It might take some time to develop my vision for this blog as well, but if you’ve been following along thus far, bear with me as I explore! Some different types of posts might start popping up (streams of consciousness, original song lyrics, random conversations I overhear and the stories I make up in my head), but who knows what I have up my sleeves?

…maybe nothing, but it’s worth rolling them up and finding out.