Why I Keep Writing Even When It Feels Like No One’s Listening
“Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write.”
— Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet (1934)
The Question That Lingers
Each time I sit down to write, I ask myself: Who is this for? Is it for me? For the people around me? For no one at all?
Writing began as a therapeutic act, something my heart told me to do long before I could explain why. I longed to be seen as a writer, to claim that identity. But my struggle wasn’t with intention, it was with distraction. I’d begin, lose steam, forget what I was working on and eventually abandon it. The drafts piled up like layers of forgotten thought.
And yet, I keep coming back. Even when it feels like no one’s reading. Because deep inside, I know I’m meant to write.
The Quiet of the Creative Void
Writing has taught me more about myself than I ever expected. Early in therapy, I was encouraged to journal my thoughts, not with any particular method, just to get the words out. Whether with pen and paper or on a keyboard, the message was the same: just write. And over time, it became a lifeline.
This isn’t just anecdotal. Psychologist Dr. James Pennebaker has conducted extensive research on expressive writing. His studies show that writing about emotional experiences can reduce stress, improve mental and physical well-being, and even strengthen the immune system (Wikipedia).
I know, crazy, right?
Even one sentence, one word, can be enough. Writing, like meditation, is a release. A way to take what’s swirling in your mind and safely place it on the page.
Author Anne Lamott puts it beautifully in “Bird by Bird”:
“Writing can be a pretty desperate endeavor, because it is about some of our deepest needs: our need to be visible, to be heard, our need to make sense of our lives...”
And:
“Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.”
Step by step, word by word, we move through the fog.
Why We Write (Even Without Applause)
Here’s the truth: I have written some of my most honest words when I was at my lowest.
I’ve faced two suicidal episodes in my life. One after a heartbreak—young, confused and aching—and the other after walking away from someone I loved deeply. I’m not good at goodbyes. In fact, I often punish myself to avoid hurting others. It’s as if I’d rather say goodbye to myself than risk saying goodbye to the people I care about most.
Little did I know how many people I would have hurt if I had followed through.
During my hospitalization, they took everything from me, except a marker and a notebook. So I wrote. To the people I hurt. To my future self. To the ones I hoped might understand me someday. Including the person I had hurt the most.
I wrote “sorry” over and over. Page after page. Until my hand ached and my tears blurred the ink.
If someone read that notebook today, they’d see how scared and lost I was. But they’d also see how far I’ve come.
Writing helped me survive.
We all need an outlet. A release. Writing is not just a tool, it’s a mirror, a lifeline and sometimes, a prayer.
Reclaiming the Power of the Page
If you’re still reading this, thank you. That means something to me. It also means you’re still here and curious, searching, maybe even needing this too.
You might be wondering how to begin writing. Start small. Write a sentence. A memory. A prayer. A fear. You’ll be surprised at how much spills out. Before you know it, you’ve written ten pages of something you didn’t think you had inside you.
Writing reminds us we’re not powerless. Even in a world that spins beyond our control, the page is a space we own. What we put on it, that’s where our freedom begins. Our creative freedom. Our emotional clarity. Our chance to live more fully.
You don’t need applause.
YOU are the most important audience.
And every single word you write matters.
In Closing: You Are Not Alone
I know what it’s like to wonder if your words will ever be heard. But I also know this:
Your voice is valuable, even in silence.
We are shaped by the stories we tell. And sometimes, writing isn’t for others, it’s for us. For the version of ourselves that needs to be seen, heard and healed.
So write.
I challenge you to write.
Write even if no one reads it. Write even if your voice shakes. Write even if you have no motivation. Because I promise you, while I may not see you, I’m here. Cheering for you in the quiet.
And if you’re reading this, I hope you feel that. That glimmer. That hope.
Write bird by bird, step by step, word by word.
I believe in you. Always.
- Kyle
Disclaimer:
This essay reflects my personal experience and is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health or suicidal thoughts, please reach out to a mental health professional or call the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 (U.S.).
You are not alone.
Sources & References
Pennebaker, J. W. (1997). Opening Up: The Healing Power of Expressing Emotions.
Learn more via the American Psychological Association or Wikipedia
Lamott, A. (1994). Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life. Anchor Books.
Rilke, R. M. (1934). Letters to a Young Poet. Norton & Co.
Writing Image by Unseen Studio via Unsplash
EmPATH Unit Image via M Health Fairview Website
