Why You Write Matters More Than You Think

Why you write matters, but I never really stopped to think about how much, or why.

As a teacher, I am constantly being bombarded with “Remember your why.” As if I could ever forget. But nobody has ever once asked me why I write. It’s just a thing I do.

But guess what. Why you write matters, and if it doesn’t matter to anybody else, it should matter to you.

So, why do you write?

There isn’t any right or wrong answer to this question. Is it to publish a book, build a brand, or make money? Those are all valid reasons. But they’re not where writing actually begins.

If you really think about it, your reason for writing probably didn’t start with a goal. It started with a feeling. A pull. A quiet kind of magic that didn’t need to be explained to anyone else.

Curiosity. Imagination. Escape. Joy.

That’s where your real why you write lives.

My “Why You Write” Story Started Before I Could Even Read

I was writing before I could read. I realize that sounds incredibly peculiar, but it’s true. Not on paper. Not in complete sentences. But in my head, where stories didn’t need rules to exist.

I made up long, ongoing story lines starring me and my stuffed animals. They had plots, personalities, and probably a level of drama that would rival a daytime soap. It wasn’t something I thought about. It was just something I did.

And I never really stopped.

As I got older, the stories evolved. I started placing myself inside my favorite TV shows, slipping into scenes like I had always been part of them. I rewrote moments. I added dialogue. I changed outcomes. I solved mysteries with Scooby Doo, ran across the prairie with Laura Ingalls, and I was a surgeon on M*A*S*H, and so much more.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I was writing fan fiction long before I knew that was even a thing. (If you want a crisp definition, Encyclopaedia Britannica has a solid one here:
fan fiction.)

By middle school, I had decided I was a poet. By high school, clearly, I was a lyricist. Because of course I was, and I still am.  Life got busier after that. More practical. More focused on what I “should” be doing. But the stories never actually left.

The Moment Everything Clicked

Years later, I was watching one of my favorite shows when a character said something that made me pause. And then it hit me.

What if…

It was instant. That shift. Not loud or dramatic. Just a quiet, undeniable spark. Because once that question shows up, it doesn’t leave. It lingers. It builds. It keeps tapping you on the shoulder until you finally pay attention.

That’s the thing about stories. They don’t wait for perfect timing. They don’t ask if you’re ready. They just arrive. And when they do, something in you wakes up with them.

That was the moment I realized this wasn’t something I used to do. It was something I had always been. It was me. I kind of felt like I came full circle with that realization.

Why You Write Has Nothing to Do With Perfection

Your why isn’t supposed to sound impressive. It’s not meant to be polished or marketable or easily explained in a single sentence.

Sometimes your why you write is as simple as this:

• Because your mind has always worked this way.
• Because stories have always been there, whether you wrote them down or not.
• Because certain ideas refuse to leave you alone.
• Because creating something feels better than holding it in.

That’s it. And that’s more than enough.

If you’ve ever felt like your path hasn’t been a straight line, or you’re just getting started, you might want to explore these writing tips for beginners, because every writing journey starts somewhere, and rarely in a straight line.

Your “Why You Write” Can Grow With You

The truth is, your why isn’t fixed. It shifts. It expands. It grows alongside you.

You might start writing because it’s fun, and later feel pulled to publish. You might begin with imagination and discover deeper meaning along the way. You might step away for a while and come back with a completely new voice. None of that means you’ve lost your why you write. It just means it’s been evolving with you the whole time. You don’t ever have to justify your why you write, as long as you know why, that’s all that matters.

A Different Way to Think About It

Instead of asking yourself to “remember your why” like it’s something you’ve lost, try this:

When did writing first feel like magic?

Not productive, not successful, not impressive. Just… magic. That answer tells you everything you need to know.

Final Thought

You didn’t start writing because you had a plan. You started because something in you wanted to tell stories. You had something to say and you wanted other people to hear it, or read it.

And the truth is, that reason never really goes away. Even when life gets busy. Even when writing takes a back seat. Even when you question it.

It’s still there.

It always has been.