Happy New Year

I know it’s been quiet here. Really quiet. So quiet that you might’ve forgotten you ever subscribed to this blog. Honestly? I wouldn’t blame you. I would’ve forgotten too.

Sometimes, you have to step away from something to remember why you started in the first place. And that’s exactly what this past year has been for me — a long pause, a reckoning, and a lesson in the hardest thing I had to learn:

How to begin again.
And again.

This past year was a rollercoaster — professionally and personally. Big changes. Relocations. Uncertainty about which direction to take. It was overwhelming in ways I didn’t always know how to name. But beneath all of it, one truth stayed consistent: I’ve always known I want to build something of my own.

When I started this blog back in 2020, I knew — deep in my bones — that I had found my calling. Writing felt like coming home. And for a while, I showed up fully. Until self-doubt crept in, quietly at first, then louder.

Is anyone even reading this?
Does anyone care what I have to say?
What’s the point?

Those questions consumed me. And so I stopped. Again and again.

It didn’t help that I wasn’t — and still am not — making money from this blog. I started asking myself the practical, adult questions: I’ve poured so much time and energy into this… what am I getting back? Is this even worth it?

Discouraged, I did what many of us do. I chased stability. I threw myself into “real” jobs that paid the bills. On paper, they were perfect: secure, respectable, reliable. And yes — they paid the rent. Which we’re told is what really matters.

And yet… no matter how stable things looked, there was always a soft whisper pulling me back to this space. To writing. To creating.

It reminded me that I wanted more than survival. I wanted authorship over my life. I wanted to create something that belonged to me — something the little version of me would be proud of.

I kept coming back here. Opening a blank page. Hearing the same thoughts loop in my head:

This isn’t what you’re meant to be doing.
You’re meant for more.

After months of making excuses, procrastination, and delayed action I decided: I will begin again. I will start my blog (again). I will be consistent (again). It was around that time; I read something that cracked open something inside me—a piece on Carl Jung and his theory on the “unlived life.”

He talked about how most people never live their true life. They wear masks. They follow societal expectations. They hide their gifts. And they die before ever becoming who they were meant to be.

I felt that. Deeply.

I didn’t want to just romanticize my potential. I wanted to live it. To feel it. To own it.

Even though I try to be bold and carve my own path, I won’t lie—fear and self-doubt often hold me back. Fear of failure. And maybe, more quietly, a fear of what it would mean if I actually succeeded. That strange, subconscious hesitation, the one where you stall not because you can’t do it, but because deep down you’re unsure you’re ready for the life on the other side of achieving it. Fear of wondering why anyone would want to read what I have to say. Fear that this blog might never become the full-time dream I once dreamed of.

And honestly, the exhaustion of adulting and a full-time job made it even harder. Just the thought of juggling all the hats this blog requires—writer, editor, designer, marketer—was, and still is, exhausting.

It made me realize that as kids we are so bold and unafraid to just do things no matter who’s looking or not. Irrespective of the outcome, we just dove right into whatever was in front of us. For the fun of it.  As we grow up things get complicated, we have more responsibilities, bills to pay. We cannot just be that carefree kid when the rent is due beginning of every month. But, what if the secret to our success is in reconnecting what that little child again?

The more I thought about this, it made me realize that most people spend their lives waiting to live. Waiting for permission. Waiting to be qualified. Waiting to feel ready. And that’s how entire lives pass by… unlived.

Reading this exactly at the time when I was internally struggling with these thoughts felt like a message from the divine. It felt as though universe wanted me to read it and push me towards starting again.

So, this post is for all of you reading right now:

 If you’re overthinking or doubting yourself, remember this: we are more powerful than we realize. The most valuable gift we can give the world is our authenticity. As Martin Scorsese said, “The more personal, the more creative.” You don’t need to know exactly who you are before you begin, you just need to start walking toward it. And every step toward becoming more you… gives others permission to do the same.

Xo

Yachna Atthi