I used to get a thrill from publishing... heart racing, fingers flying, thoughts pouring out faster than I could catch them. But now, everything feels like a task. Like I’m checking boxes instead of chasing joy. The things that once inspired me—the late-night editing sessions, spontaneous trips, social events, caption-writing over coffee—feel strangely distant.
But I still scroll through content I admire. I still cheer on my fellow creators. But instead of feeling motivated, I just feel… tired. drained. burnt out. I feel like I keep trying to show up even when the soul's already gone quiet.
I HONESTLY miss the spark. I miss creating just because, not for metrics or expectations.
Maybe it’s the pressure. Maybe it’s life. Or maybe this is just a season. A pause, not an ending. I want to believe that. I need to.
So I’m giving myself permission to step back without guilt. To rest without fear. And hopefully, somewhere in the quiet, I’ll find that flicker again. That little spark.
Because I know she’s still in there. Just waiting.
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