What Happens When You Start Writing as Your True Authentic Self

...the fuckery of discovering your voice as a writer, putting aside your "expert" voice altogether.

I fell out of love with my own writing.

As I sat there, staring at the pompous pile of my own words, neatly stacked on the desk in front of me, I couldn't help but let out a snort. Who was this person? The one who wrote sentences so starched they could stand up on their own and march right out of the room?