There’s something mildly suspicious about anyone who claims to have life completely figured out. If a person tells you they’ve achieved total inner peace, mastered productivity, drink exactly eight glasses of water daily, and wake up at 5 a.m. for fun, it’s only natural to wonder if they’re secretly powered by a different operating system.
I am not one of those people.
In fact, I am the kind of person who sets three alarms, ignores all of them, and then wakes up in a panic wondering why past me thought “just five more minutes” was a sustainable lifestyle choice. I am deeply familiar with procrastination, overthinking, emotional snacking, and that strange phenomenon of opening my phone to check one thing and emerging 45 minutes later knowing everything about a stranger’s kitchen renovation.
And yet, perhaps because of all that, I want to become a writer and book author.
If you’ve been here over the past two year, keep shaking your head, sometimes it takes me a while to acknowledge my own achievements.
Not because I’ve mastered life, but because I haven’t. Not because I have all the answers, but because I’m endlessly curious about better questions. And definitely not because I think I’m qualified to stand on a metaphorical mountaintop shouting advice like a wise guru wrapped in linen. I don’t even own linen, and I am perusing a degree that I assume would help me better achieve this goal. Who’s racking up that student debt, this girl.
I want to become a personal growth writer because I’m in the middle of the mess, just like everyone else, and I think that’s exactly where the most honest, useful stories come from. Validation is the key to unlocking your inner calm.
I Don’t Want to Pretend I Have It All Together
Let’s address the elephant in the room: the self-help industry has a reputation.
There are books that promise to change your life in seven days, fix your habits in five steps, and unlock your “best self” like you’re a hidden level in a video game. I feel like I have read them all. There are morning routines so elaborate they require the time management skills of a NASA launch team. There are people who seem to glide through life with suspicious levels of calm, as if they’ve never rage-typed an email and then deleted it.
And while some of that advice can be genuinely helpful, it can also feel… distant. Disconnected, and shame-inducing.
Because real life isn’t a perfectly structured checklist. It’s messy, unpredictable, and occasionally held together with caffeine, chaos, and good intentions.
I don’t want to contribute to the illusion that growth is clean and linear. It’s not. Growth looks like taking two steps forward, one step back, and then accidentally sitting down because you got distracted, or lets be real, life just got to overwhelming. It looks like trying something new, failing at it, and then trying again with slightly less enthusiasm but more snacks.
As a writer, I don’t want to position myself as someone who has “arrived.” I want to be someone who is actively figuring things out and inviting others into that sometimes messy process.
Because there’s something comforting about knowing you’re not the only one who doesn’t have a color-coded life planner.
I’m Fascinated by Why We Do the Things We Do
Another reason why I want to write in this space is simple: humans are weird.
We know what’s good for us, and yet we don’t always do it. We set goals, make plans, and then somehow find ourselves doing the exact opposite. We overthink small decisions and underthink big ones. We hold ourselves to impossible standards while giving everyone else grace.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Why do we procrastinate on things we care about?
Why do we compare ourselves to people whose lives we don’t actually want?
Why do we talk ourselves out of opportunities and then regret it later?
Why do we buy things we don’t need and then feel personally attacked by our bank accounts?
These questions are endlessly interesting to me.
Growth writing, at its best, explores these contradictions. It doesn’t just tell people what to do, it helps them understand why they struggle to do it. It looks at habits, emotions, beliefs, and patterns with curiosity instead of judgment.
I don’t want to write advice that feels like a lecture. I want to write insights that feel like someone gently saying, “Hey, I’ve been there too. Let’s figure this out together.” And I want to infuse the hard with humor.
Humor Makes Hard Truths Easier to Hear
Let’s be honest: personal growth can be really uncomfortable. Like, REALLY.
It involves confronting your habits, your fears, your excuses, and that one thing you’ve been avoiding for three months that is now emotionally larger than it needed to be.
That’s not exactly light reading.
But add a little humor, and that changes everything.
When you can laugh at yourself, you are reminded you are only human. Laugh at your procrastination, your overthinking, your dramatic internal monologues, it takes some of the pressure off. Promise. It turns self-improvement from something heavy and intimidating into something more human and approachable.
I want to write content that makes people think and smile.
Not because everything is a joke, but because humor creates space. It softens the edges of difficult truths. It makes people more willing to engage with ideas they might otherwise avoid.
For example, it’s one thing to say:
“You need to stop procrastinating and take responsibility for your time.”
It’s another thing to say:
“Procrastination is basically your brain saying, ‘This looks hard, so let’s reorganize the entire apartment at 1am instead.’” Same idea. Different delivery. One feels like a scolding. The other feels like a shared experience. Or maybe that’s ADHD, lets unpack that later.
I want to be the second kind of voice.
I Believe Self Help Should Be Honest, Not Perfect
There’s a version of self-help that feels… polished.
Too polished.
It’s the kind that suggests if you just follow the right routine, adopt the right mindset, and drink enough green smoothies, everything will fall into place. Life will become smooth, predictable, and aesthetically pleasing.
I don’t know a out you, but that’s not how my life has worked.
Bad days happen. Motivation disappears. Plans fall apart. People make mistakes, lose focus, and occasionally eat cereal for dinner because cooking feels like too much.
And that’s okay.
I want to write about the reality of growth, the part where things don’t go according to plan. The part where you have to start over. The part where progress is slow, inconsistent, and sometimes invisible.
Because that’s the part people actually live in.
Perfection is not relatable. Progress is.
Writing Helps Me Understand Myself (Which Is Honestly Necessary)
Another reason I want to continue this journey of writing is slightly selfish: writing helps me make sense of my own brain.
There’s something about putting thoughts into words that clarifies them. It forces you to slow down, organize your ideas, and confront whether they actually make sense.
Sometimes I start writing about a problem thinking I understand it, only to realize halfway through that I’ve been completely wrong. Other times, writing helps me connect patterns I hadn’t had time to notice before.
It’s like having a conversation with yourself, except you can’t interrupt or change the subject.
By writing about personal growth, habits, and mindset, I’m not just helping others, I’m actively learning alongside them. I’m testing ideas, reflecting on experiences, and gradually building a clearer understanding of what actually works.
And if I can turn that process into something useful for someone else, that’s a win.
I Want to Cut Through the Noise
The internet is full of advice.
Endless advice.
Like I have said before, there are productivity hacks, morning routines, mindset shifts, and life strategies coming from every direction. Some of it is helpful. Some of it is contradictory. Some of it sounds impressive but doesn’t actually work in real life.
It’s easy to feel overwhelmed.
Should you wake up at 5 a.m. or prioritize sleep?
Should you plan every minute of your day or go with the flow?
Should you follow your passion or build discipline first?
Should you journal, meditate, exercise, visualize, or all of the above while also somehow having a full-time job?
It’s a lot.
I want to create content that simplifies, not complicates.
Not by pretending there’s one perfect answer, but by focusing on what’s realistic, flexible, and adaptable. By acknowledging that different things work for different people, and that it’s okay to experiment. Keep messing up, because that’s how we learn.
Personal growth shouldn’t feel like adding more pressure to your life. It should feel like removing some of it, and feeling less ashamed and alone.
I Care About Helping People Feel Less Alone
At its core, this is probably the biggest reason.
People struggle quietly with things they think they’re the only ones experiencing. Self-doubt. Lack of motivation. Fear of failure. Feeling stuck. Feeling behind. Feeling like everyone else has it figured out.
That’s a lie, they in fact do not have it all figured out.
Good writing has the power to remind people that their experiences are not unique in a lonely way, they’re shared in a human way.
When someone reads something and thinks, “Wait, that’s exactly how I feel,” it creates a sense of connection. It reduces isolation. It makes challenges feel more manageable.
I want to contribute to that.
Not by offering perfect solutions, but by offering understanding, perspective, and encouragement.
I Don’t Want to Just Motivate People, I Want to Help Them Build Systems
Motivation is great.
It’s also unreliable.
One day you feel inspired and ready to change your life. The next day you can’t even convince yourself to reply to an email.
If growth relies only on motivation, it falls apart quickly.
I’m more interested in systems.
Small, practical changes that don’t depend on feeling inspired. Habits that are realistic. Strategies that work even on low-energy days. Approaches that acknowledge human limitations instead of ignoring them.
I want to write about what actually helps people follow through, not just what sounds good in theory.
Because the gap between knowing and doing is where most people get stuck.
I Think Growth Should Feel Human
At the end of the day, I don’t want to write something that feels like a rulebook.
I want to write something that feels like a conversation.
Something that says:
“You don’t have to be perfect.”
“You’re allowed to struggle.”
“You can improve your life without turning into a completely different person.”
Growth isn’t about becoming someone else. It’s about becoming a more intentional version of yourself.
And that process is messy, nonlinear, and sometimes a little ridiculous.
So… Why Do I Want to Become a Writer?
Because I’m curious.
Because I’m flawed.
Because I’ve struggled with the same things a lot of people struggle with and I’m still working through them.
Because I believe honesty is more helpful than perfection.
Because humor makes hard things easier.
Because writing helps me think.
Because there’s too much noise from the world around us and not enough clarity.
Because people feel alone when they don’t have to.
And because if I can write something that makes even one person feel understood, motivated, or slightly less inclined to reorganize their entire apartment instead of doing their actual work…
That feels worthwhile.
Even if I still can’t fold a fitted sheet.
(Some goals take time I guess.)
💛LJ
Roar louder than your demons 