Since I opened my Instagram writing account, I am consistently thinking what will I post next?

While writing, in my opinion, is about healing and deciphering our emotions, it is easy to forget the purpose. We live in a world where we have become products for consumption. I assumed that all of my poems had to be posted– I felt like it was my responsibility to share them.

However, my mom once told me that not everything I write needs to leave my journal. At first, I didn’t understand what she meant. I thought of writing as an act of kindness. We all need to hear the right words every once in a while. My writing could be the right words to someone else’s heartache. So, then the line between healing myself and helping others became a blur. Is writing a selfish act or a selfless one?

She said this at a time when I was heartbroken. Like I say in one of my poems, “my metaphors found comfort in a shattered clock among other broken places of life.” Yes, I just quoted myself.  A lot of my writing is based in reality, but they are often stained with my imagination. In this one case, my mother’s advice was based on a poem I wrote about my ex-boyfriend at the time. Unlike other pieces where I try not to reveal so much of their identity, this poem had every tiny detail about him between its verses. I wrote every detail I had absorbed over two years and poured them onto the page– it was my way to remember. I also wrote about us. If this poem was ever shared online, he would know. He would know it was about him. I wasn’t sure whether that would be such a bad thing since I never said anything necessarily negative. But perhaps it was better kept in my journal.

I listened to her advice, and let the poem sink into the page.

This happened over a year ago. Recently, I came across the poem while looking at old journals. This became a habit for me. I normally fill out around two journals per year, and every once in a while, I go back and read them. Witnessing your personal growth in a tangible way can be inspiring at times.

When I read this specific poem, titled “Blurry Vision,” I understood why it needed to be kept in a safe space. That poem allowed me to remember him. It gave a space for me to remember every detail about him– but also, a space for me to let go. Sometimes letting go means exactly the opposite, especially if you are a writer. Letting go may mean to remember absolutely everything about the person you once loved, from the way his eyes thinned as he laughs to the way he made you feel as if the world stopped turning on its own for an instant. How is that letting go? Some of us need to find closure before moving onto our next chapter– yes, a cliché metaphor but is fits perfectly. Unfortunately, closure doesn’t always mean that you will be able to say goodbye. Closure can be one last chance for you to relieve your story and give it an end. Writing was my closure.

Writing is not always an art form that heals others; it can also provide healing for yourself.