I’ve written things for as long as I can remember. As a child I would often write fictional stories set in alternate universes of my own creation. It was my very own form of escapism. I would pretend that I was these characters, living out a fantastical life and having the best adventures.
When I grew slightly older I started writing the stories that I wanted to read, but that I couldn’t find. It was very much a case of ‘well if I can’t find it, I might as well create it.’ As of yet none of the stories I’ve attempted to write have ever been completed, but hey, maybe that’s a thing I could work on.
These day’s I tend to write mostly non-fictional stuff. Things that have been going on in my everyday life. Sometimes it’s experiences that I’ve had that I’ve wanted to share, or it’s a topic that I’m particularly interested in that I want to talk about, so I write it down. It’s also a way to help myself process things. I write a lot of letters, most often to my Dad after he passed away. They’re my way of working out my own feelings, as if I’m telling them to someone else, explaining to them why I’m feeling the way I am.
Mostly I write for myself. Because I enjoy it. And if other people read what I write and enjoy it too, that’s just a bonus.
A Place of Mine 
Beautiful post.
And I suppose we all mostly write for ourselves. In order to figure out who we are, where we’ve been, where we’re headed.
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