This is a personal reflection on how, for me, writing has become more challenging in today’s world – shaped by social change, politics, and a growing loss of fairness and balance since I started writing in 2010. Yet by doing what I love, by following my passion for writing, I hope I am opening a door to a chain reaction, helping others to navigate their lives too.
When I first began to write in 2010, the world was a gentler place. There was more room to breathe, to reflect, to sit with my thoughts long enough for them to form on the page. Life wasn’t without its challenges, but it didn’t feel relentless. It wasn’t loud.
Social media was still finding its footing. It hadn’t yet become the all-consuming force it is today – one that pulls attention in every direction, often leaving little space for stillness, contemplation, and deep thinking.
Back then, politics felt like background noise. It moved steadily and quietly, not the chaotic, headline-grabbing, stress-inducing force it has become in 2025. The world felt more settled – or perhaps I was. My thoughts came more easily. There was less noise to push through, less clutter to untangle. There was a personal and collective sense of balance that made it possible to stay with an idea long enough to give it life.
But now life has moved on, and the world has changed. It's louder. More intense. The noise outside mirrors the noise inside. Climate change, political instability, conflict, and social division are no longer distant headlines – they are the backdrop of daily life, and they weigh heavily.
Even the animal kingdom, once a comforting reminder of nature’s quiet resilience, is suffering. As wildlife populations decline, so too does the sense of harmony many of us once felt. It isn't right.
Still, I write. It's not easy. There is more clutter, more grief, more layers to work through. The loss of my twin has added a profound depth of complexity to everything I once knew. Yet I feel it still matters that I show up – that I continue to write through uncertainty, through the noise.
I like to believe that the challenges of today are what give my words their weight. To write now feels like an act of courage and hope. And yes – hope is still in there. Hope is how I have always functioned. Writing is my way of saying: I am still here. I do still care. I still believe that our words matter.
In December, as we slowly edge towards 2026 the world doesn't feel as forgiving as 2010, but I shall continue to show up. I shall continue to write – to make sense of things, not just for myself, but for anyone who is reading – for anyone who may be quietly trying to understand and to navigate this new reality and doesn’t yet know where to start.
