Writing Saved Me Like Nothing Else Could

And it started with one small step.

Words have a way of finding us when we need them most, don't they? Sometimes they arrive as lifelines thrown into deep waters.

I once found myself in what felt like the deepest waters of my life. In my thirties, I lost my mother after watching her slip away to an ugly and debilitating disease. My three children needed me in that constant, beautiful, exhausting way that littles do. My father, who had moved closer to me, was now navigating the fog of stroke-induced dementia, and suddenly I was his compass too. Meanwhile, my husband was consumed with a startup that carried the weight of our family's future.

There were days when I moved between putting my youngest down for a nap, and then putting my father down for one too. The messiness of it all, the sheer overwhelm, sometimes threatened to suck me under. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of everyone else's needs, forgetting there was still a "me" somewhere beneath it all.

But something flickered inside me, small but persistent. A voice that said: You’re still a writer. You’ve always been a writer.

So, I began. Oftentimes in the small hours of the morning.

First with a travel blog that highlighted trips I’d taken with my sisters and also books that felt like happy travel reads. Then came two small paragraphs each week for our town's visitors association. Eventually, I found myself landing a small but steady gigs as a freelance writer for lifestyle magazines.

And here's what I discovered: every single time I sat down to write, something magical happened. I found my voice again. Not the voice that soothed crying children or navigated Medicare calls, or explained the same thing to my father for the tenth time that day. My voice. The one that had stories to tell and truths to share and a way of seeing the world that was uniquely mine.

Even while I was swimming against the current of daily life, caught in that relentless sea of caregiving and responsibility, I knew that my writing would be my lifeline.

Bringing one of my daughters along on a magazine assignment covering an organic farm stay remains one of my happiest memories.

So, I kept writing.

I wanted more. I wanted bigger. I wanted something that was wholly, completely mine. I began drafting my first novel, meeting other writers and people in the industry, and claiming myself as a fiction writer.

The creative process saved me in a way that nothing else could.

When I wrote, I wasn't just the mother, the daughter, the caregiver, the helper. I was the observer, the storyteller, the one who could take the ingredients of a messy, complicated life and shape them into something meaningful. Writing didn't erase the hard parts, but it helped me make sense of them. It gave me a place to put the overwhelm, the grief, the love, the hope. It reminded me that even in the midst of caring for everyone else, I was still becoming who I was meant to be.

Four published novels later, I can look back and be grateful.

Here’s what I want you to know

To those of you who might be feeling like you're drowning in your own sea of responsibilities, demands, and dreams deferred—I see you. Maybe you're in a season of young children, aging parents, demanding careers, or personal struggles that feel too big to carry. Maybe you're wondering if there's still space for your creative voice in a landscape that feels saturated at times.

There is space. There is time.

Even if it's just fifteen before your household wakes up. Start small. Start scared. Start anyway. Write one paragraph. Take one step toward the creative life that's calling your name. Because sometimes, when we're swimming against the tide, the very thing that saves us is the thing we create with from the bottom of our heart.

Take good care, writer. I see you.

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Want to go deeper? Check out this week’s episode on The Whole Writer podcast, where I share real answers for real writing struggles. 👇🏻

Every week, The Whole Writer podcast creates space for writers to nurture both their craft and themselves, exploring what it means to write from a place of wholeness rather than depletion. You can find episodes:
📍 Here on my Substack
📍 Apple Podcasts
📍 Spotify

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Ready for support but still wanting to stay true to your summer schedule?

If you're sitting with an idea... Those Clarity Calls I do? They're exactly this kind of thing. We just talk through what you're working on—no pressure, no homework. We discuss what you have and figure out where it wants to go next. My superpower is the ability to ask good questions in order to help writers get moving forward. I’d love to do this with you.

If you've got a partial draft... A 50-Page Manuscript Evaluation might be perfect for this moment. I read through everything and give you my professional insight on what's working and what might need strengthening. I’ll keep a keen eye toward your story question, plot, pacing, character development, and author voice in the form of a big-picture letter to help you see your story clearly and know what to focus on when you're ready to get back to work. We’ll wrap it all up with a 60-minute call.

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