Why I write my blogs

Sometimes, I wonder if my words are too much..

This blog is a little note from my heart to yours, explaining why I write, and what I hope these blogs can offer you. My writing lately is a little more vulnerable, a little deeper. They’re not meant to teach, but to invite- to offer space for connection, insight or simply a quiet moment of presence.

I write about things that live deep in me — thoughts about life, the body, emotions, tenderness, and the ways we lose and rediscover ourselves.  A friend politely said my blogs feel very deep, that I should write about gardening for example, which is something I deeply enjoy. I appreciated her perspective — it came from a place of care. But I also know I need to honour my own truth.

I don't get much engagement as comments. And still, I keep writing.

Because every so often, someone tells me: "This helped me." "You put into words something I couldn’t name." "I really needed to hear this." ''I feel a connection every time I read your posts, I totally relate.'' '' You give deep meaning in all the articles you write''.

And I remember why I write.

I’m often shy to speak, especially in larger groups or with people I don’t know. I’m not great at small talk. I’ve always found it easier to express myself through touch — and through writing. That’s where I feel most at home. My blogs are, in many ways, an extension of my journal: quiet reflections, gentle observations, personal truths I feel ready to share.

I don’t write for likes. I don’t write to sound wise. I write to be real. I write because something in me needs to speak, to shape the invisible into something others can touch. And if my words resonate with you, I hope they meet you gently, wherever you are.

The people who read my writing come from all walks of life. Some are teachers, fathers, students, artists. Others hold powerful roles- leaders, decision makers. Some are retired. All people navigating their own quiet and complex lives. Many of them are men who move through strong, structured worlds, but find something soft and real in these words. And that means something to me.

 It reminds me that no one is untouched by the need for connection — no matter who they are or what they do.

That’s why I keep writing.

Even if the response is quiet — even if there’s no reply — I trust that something is still landing. A small shift. A moment of reflection. A conscious breath.

I believe in that. I believe in the quiet power of honest words. I believe in writing not to impress, but to connect.

And if what I share reaches even one person, softly, gently — then that is more than enough.

That is why I write.

Love,

Rosie x