What Are You Writing For — Really?
Not because I didn’t want to share them, but because I was writing from obligation, not excitement. Before we talk about finishing your book, we need to talk about what made writing stop tingling in the first place.
THE STORY YOU’RE ACTUALLY HERE FOR
I used to write constantly — and finish almost nothing.
I had notebooks full of ideas, characters, fragments I wanted to give to other people.
I planned essays, articles, even full content calendars.
On paper, everything made sense.
But when it came time to write, the spark wasn’t there.
No inner pull. No curiosity.
Just effort.
So I rewrote.
Again and again.
Each version sounded smarter, cleaner, more refined
and somehow further away.
Because I wasn’t editing the text.
I was editing myself.
For a long time, I thought my problem was focus.
But the truth was simpler and harder to admit.
I was trying to decide who I was allowed to be as a writer.
One tone.
One genre.
One version that made sense to others.
But I’m not one thing.
Writing had always been how I remembered myself.
I’ve kept diaries since I was seven.
When I stopped writing freely, meaning began to thin out.
Somewhere along the way, writing stopped being discovery
and became judgment.
That’s when excitement drains out.
And without excitement, writing becomes heavy.
What Changed Everything
Creativity isn’t something you lose.
It’s something you bury
under musts, shoulds, and borrowed strategies.
I stopped chasing discipline
and started listening for recognition.
Not “How do I finish?”
But “Which part of me wants to speak right now?”
From there, my relationship with writing shifted.
What I Do Now
For over five years, I’ve worked in education, designing learning experiences for both global and local companies.
I’ve led programs that support people in unlocking their potential by combining clear frameworks, real practice, and coaching.
My work is informed by formal training in ICF coaching and NLP techniques, grounded in evidence-based methods and applied human insight.
But credentials aside, what matters most is this:
I know how to recognize the moment where creativity stalls
and how to guide writers through it, back to themselves.
I don’t believe creativity belongs to a chosen few.
I help writers make peace with their own.
How I Work
I don’t do productivity coaching.
And I don’t fix people.
I work with writers who have ideas, intelligence, and depth
but find themselves stuck in self-doubt, overthinking, or quiet avoidance.
Together, we explore:
what originally excited you
where performance replaced curiosity
how many versions of you want to write
how to choose differently, now, in real ways
Finishing your book isn’t just finishing a project.
It’s reclaiming a part of yourself.
WHY THIS WORK EXISTS
Because someone out there needs your story
the way I once needed mine.
Because no agent can find a manuscript that doesn’t exist.
And the world doesn’t need more perfect writers.
It needs finished, alive, honest ones.
If your book is whispering from a drawer
and fear is louder than your voice right now
I want to invite you into a different kind of creative space.
One where pressure drops.
Curiosity returns.
And writing becomes an encounter again.
I built this work for the writer I used to be
and for the part of you that still remembers why you started.
If you’re serious about finishing your story
and ready to invest in yourself,
send me a message.
Tell me where you are right now.
We’ll see if this journey is right for both of us.
Curious to work together?
Quick Facts
🎧 Favorite Writing Ritual
Tea, candles, and writing to instrumental soundtracks like Max Richter or Nicholas Britell
📚 Current Obsession
Dystopian fiction + books on the creative process
✨ Super Power
Helping perfectionists stop abandoning their voice
🌊 Most Me
Writing on emotional low tide — when the truth finally comes up for air