Today, I crossed a threshold I never thought I would approach.
I wrote something in response to a prompt from a writing community and submitted it to their weekly contest. I’ve never dreamed of offering my writing for judgment, nor have I ever imagined my words worthy of such exposure.
The feeling is a mix of equal parts terror and exhilaration.
But what made this experience transformative wasn’t the act of submission—it was the process of creation itself.
When I read that prompt, I knew exactly what was sitting within me, waiting to emerge. The prompt became my invitation to excavate what had been buried.
The subject matter was painful to process, taking me to depths I rarely visit. It revealed how vulnerable I can be, how much tenderness lives in the darker corners of myself. But it also showed me something profound: finding words to describe the darkness far outweighs the damage caused by holding it in, by refusing to face what lives in the shadows.
The creativity that emerged was unlike anything I’d experienced before.
The prompt didn’t just open emotions—it questioned intentionally, evoked something raw and beautiful, and reminded me that our deepest wounds often hold our most authentic truths.
I’m grateful for this moment of courage, for daring to try something I would have dismissed as impossible just months ago.
Whether my submission finds favour or not, something has shifted.
I’ve learned that the real victory isn’t in external validation, it’s in the willingness to be seen, to let our inner world become outer expression, to trust that our stories matter enough to be told.
