I used to write all the time. I’d wake up and just have things to write about. I wrote a blog back in 2017 that got half a million reads in two hours. I’ve spent all my time since then trying to best that post and never quite getting there.

Writing, I’ve come to realise is a little bit like life. It comes in waves. Sometimes there’s lots to say and the stories just fall from the tongue and onto the page and the blog clicks just keep on coming.

And sometimes there’s not very much to say and you wonder if that’s because you’ve lost all the creativity you once had because all you’re annoyed about these days is the fact that Rishi Sunak wants to give us money off at Nando’s when the last thing I want to do is eat over priced bland chicken because it reminds me of my narcissistic ex boyfriend and I’d rather not think about that time in my life thanks.

And before anyone starts throwing defamation of character and slander around I’ve dated a lot of narcissistic idiots over the years. In fact for a while I was in competition with myself to see if the next one could be the last one. Thankfully I peaked though and whilst WordPress does remind me sometimes that the same person clicks on my blog 127 times in twenty minutes at midnight on a Saturday I think I can safely say I’m narcissist free. Still not keen on Nando’s however. Maybe Rishi could just donate to the food banks instead.

And the months go by and there’s nothing to write about. And then you contemplate that maybe you should change what you write about to drive more traffic and maybe grab some relatability from somewhere. But what? What would you write about when you’re a mid thirties mother of three with a stable job and more than happy relationship and life is just…normal?

So maybe writing is like life. Sometimes messy and busy and constant. Sometimes quiet and normal and not really funny or sarcastic. Sometimes you don’t get aubergines on first dates, sometimes you go to bed at 8pm wearing a dressing gown.

And maybe we shouldn’t strive to be anymore relatable than we already are, we shouldn’t strive to write about stuff we’re not very good at writing about and maybe we should just be ourselves and trust that one day at 2am we’ll wake up with the perfect story to write about…

And we wait.