How I Overcame Writer’s Block in 2 Steps (When Nothing Else Worked)

I have a confession: I haven't been able to write anything I felt truly inspired by for over a year.

At first, I thought it was burnout. Between working full-time as an editor and staying perpetually busy as a mom, I stopped coming up with ideas. It was a blank space mostly occupied by to-do lists and just trying to survive another busy day. I no longer had time to let my mind wander, to focus on anything inspirational. All I wanted to do was nothing. Or sleep. Or shower. Mostly sleep.

I've spent over 10 years helping others overcome writer's block and dig deep to find the motivation needed to push through and get words down on the page, so you can imagine my frustration when I couldn't push past this. 

None of my usual go-to tricks or tips worked. When I taught others how to overcome this exact same issue, I prided myself on being the one with answers to others' writer's block woes. The frustration was suffocating.

In the early days, I took this writer's block personally. Like it was an affront to my very being.

My pride took a major hit. I was no better than any other writer out there. Then came feelings of sadness, shame, and deep-seated anger in myself.

I tried going where the procrastination took me. I read books that spoke to my soul. I took long walks in nature and explored my favorite bookstores. I gave myself plenty of rest and tried and tried again.

I struggled, trying to force myself to sit down and write. I'd set a timer. That's how long I had to make it happen. When it buzzed, I would give up. But that didn't help. The page stayed blank, the cursor on my laptop blinking at me, further igniting my shame and anger.

Was my outlet, my mental health go-to, gone forever? What would I do without it? Why did the words leave me when I needed them the most? How could I have thought I had all the answers? Who am I if not a writer?

I dug myself deeper and deeper into these negative emotions. Now I was in so deep that I couldn't find my way out. I had buried myself alive.

And the more I tried, the more I came up short. So eventually, I gave up.

I thought maybe I spent all the creativity I had left in the pre-mom days. Maybe I wasn't allotted any more in this lifetime. After giving birth, I no longer felt like the same person. Maybe I was no longer someone put on this Earth to create, but simply to improve upon others' creations.

After about a year and a half, I found the answer I had been seeking. The solution to my writing woes. But it wasn't anything like what I thought it would be. Here's how I got my groove back, in two easy steps.

First, I accepted that I was stuck. I admitted my limitation. I couldn't change the fact that I was deep in writer's block, no matter how hard I tried.

Second, I let go of control. I surrendered. I stopped fighting the reality of my situation. Maybe the words would find me again someday, and maybe they wouldn't. Either way, my life was full.

Once I had accepted the reality of my situation, what happened next surprised me.

I found other parts of me, other interests to occupy my time. 

I threw myself into gardening because putting my hands in the dirt helped me feel connected and grounded. I learned about native plants, organic gardening, composting, and designing veggie gardens. I started a greenhouse. I planted tons of fruits and vegetables.

After my daughter was born, I focused fully on her. I read parenting books non-stop. I worked with her on her development. I found ways to become a better person so that I could be the type of mom she deserved. 

I explored myself, searching for why and where this idea that I had to be a writer came from and why my self-worth was so tied to that.

I was so focused on my other interests that I stopped thinking about writing without even realizing it. I accepted that I might not be a writer anymore, and I was completely fine with it.

I utterly let go of the idea that I = writer, that I'm nothing without it. It no longer felt like a plague or a failure. No negative emotions sat heavy in my chest.

Because I now knew that I was more.

Then one day at random, the words spilled out of me. I couldn't turn it off. Beautiful, flowing sentences kept appearing in my mind. I remember being so tired and trying to take a nap, then another inspiring phrase would pop into my head.

I wrote it all down as fast as I could, fearing that I would forget and the inspiration would leave me again. Yet, like water from a broken faucet, the words shot out of me. It was utterly uncontrollable.

Had I found the answer I was (no longer) looking for, I wondered, after I released any control over the outcome? Had I found the missing piece to the puzzle that had sat heavy in my mind for so long?

It turns out that I had.

The words haven't left me again since that day. 

I accept that it may happen again at some point in my life. But if that day comes, I know my life is full regardless. I will be happy. 

Being a writer isn't who I am. It's only a piece of my spirit, my soul. Even though I used to believe that writing brought my soul peace and was an essential part of my identity, I now know that's not realistic.

There are so many other parts of me, parts that were waiting quietly in the background until they had the space to surface. I found who I truly am. I found my inner peace. And with that, I found my words once more.

And you know what happened? I was free. Truly and utterly free. Maybe for the first time ever.

The weight I had been carrying from not being able to do something that came so easily to me my entire life was lifted.

What I learned is that by letting go of control, you release the anxiety of trying to force outcomes and can focus your energy on what you can actually impact. Doing so acknowledges your limitations and replaces stress with trust, helping you find peace in the present moment rather than constantly wishing the circumstances were different.

When you think all hope is lost, remember that it's not. Sometimes you have to take a step back, focus on other things for a while, accept what you can't change, and just let go. You'll find your spark again someday. Your worth isn't something the world gets to decide.

If you never write again, that's okay too. Life changes. We, as humans, change over time. Our values and skills may change. How we spend our time may change. That's life. As long as you find something that you love, something that makes you happy, you're going to be okay. That's all that matters.