For anyone who wants to create, but feels different every damn day.
I thought I’d have published a blog by now.
I really did.
But every time I sit down to write, a different version of me shows up.
One day I’m cracked open and deep.
The next, I’m whistling Pink Floyd while painting window trim.
And some days? I feel absolutely nothing at all.
So I don’t know what to say, because I never know who I’m going to be.
Am I writing to the people I said I’d help?
Am I writing to myself?
Am I writing just to feel like I exist?
I don’t know.
And I guess that’s why I haven’t posted a damn thing.
It’s not because I have nothing to say.
It’s because I feel too much.
Or sometimes too little.
Or everything all at once — and trying to make that make sense on paper? Not easy.
Also? I overthink.
Like, a lot.
I have a Trello board full of content ideas I haven’t touched.
Dozens of journal entries.
A blog that hasn’t been published.
A voice in my head that says, “Pick one thing and be consistent,”
and another that says, “Screw that, I’m tired.”
And still…
Even after all the starts and stops and “maybe later” days…
Here I am.
Writing this.
Because maybe it doesn’t have to be perfect.
Maybe it just has to be true.
And here’s the truth:
> I want to create something that feels like me — even if “me” looks different every damn day.
> I want to write for the ones who are tired of trying to keep it together.
> And I want to make space for all of it — the numbness, the laughter, the grief, the karaoke, the paint-stained windows, and the sacred rage.
So no, I hadn’t posted a blog yet. (Until now.)
But this is me starting.
This is me choosing action over waiting for the perfect mood.
And if you’re reading this thinking “same,”
then maybe you’ve got something worth starting too.
It doesn’t have to be perfect.
It just has to be real.
—
💭 What version of you showed up today?
💌 If anything here resonated — or if you’re also figuring it out one messy day at a time — I’d love to hear from you.
👉 mary@marybejaranomoore.com
Mary Bejarano Moore 