Why I Stopped Writing — And Why I Came Back

There was a time when I stopped writing. Not because I ran out of ideas.

Not because the stories stopped coming. But because I felt like I had to choose.

For a while, I felt caught between two worlds: my professional life and my identity as a writer. At work, it often seemed like being an author was looked down on. People accused me of promoting my books just because I answered questions when they came up. What started as something I loved began to feel like something I had to hide.

At the same time, I had just published The Epiphany.

It was one of the most honest things I had ever written. And the response? Mixed. Some people loved it. Others felt it was too raw, especially because of my faith.

I remember being told that as someone who loves Jesus — someone who served on the prayer team at her local church — I shouldn’t be writing stories like that.

That stayed with me. It planted a question I wasn’t prepared to answer at the time:

• Can I be both?

• Can I be a professional… and a writer?

• Can I love God… and still tell stories that wrestle with uncomfortable truths?

At some point, I stopped asking the question and made a decision.

I chose my career. And slowly, quietly, I stopped writing and publishing.

But the stories didn’t leave. They never do.

It wasn’t until my grandmother passed away in 2023 that something shifted in me. Before she died, she asked me to start writing again. To start publishing again. I made a promise to her that I wouldn’t let my stories be silenced. And that promise stayed with me.

Looking back now, I realize something I wish I had understood sooner:

I should have never stopped because I don’t write for fame. I don’t write for money. I write for release. For freedom. For vindication. Sometimes, to get the story out of my head so I can breathe again.

Writing is not separate from who I am. It is a part of my identity. And I am no longer ashamed of that.

My stories might still feel too raw for some people. They might challenge what others expect. They may not fit neatly into what people think I should write, whether that’s because of my faith, my career, or something else.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t love Jesus. And it doesn’t mean my career isn’t important. It simply means I am whole.

I am a woman of faith. I am a professional. And I am a writer. All at the same time.

And this time, I’m not choosing between them.

I’m choosing all of me.