No Plan B: Just A Need To Write

When survival and passion collide, which voice do you follow?

I don’t have a trust fund. I don’t have a backup plan. I don’t even have a guarantee that this will work.

All I have is a knowing—loud and relentless—that I was meant to write.

And every day, I feel the tug-of-war between what the world tells me I should do, and what my soul is begging me to become.

The Silent Battle Nobody Sees

On the outside, it looks like indecision: bouncing between job listings, half-finished applications, and the weight of bills stacking higher than my hope.

But inside? It’s a battlefield.

My heart says, Write.

My head says, Survive.

And sometimes I’m not even sure which one is louder anymore—because survival isn’t just about money. It’s about dignity. It’s about proving to your family that you’re not some dream-drunk failure. It’s about wanting to be taken seriously in a world that only seems to value art after you’ve already made it.

But passion is survival, too.

For people like me—people who write to breathe—ignoring that calling feels like a slow kind of death. A disconnection. A suffocation.

I can work a “normal” job, sure. I have. But when I do, something in me goes numb. And that numbness spreads.

The Luxury of Options

There’s this myth that passion is for the privileged. That if you don’t have a safety net, your only option is the grind. I’ve lived without a net. I still am.

No one’s catching me if I fall.

No one’s funding my art while I figure it out.

So yes—I know what it means to weigh a dream against the cost of groceries.

But just because I can’t afford to fail doesn’t mean I can afford to ignore what I was made for. And that’s the part nobody talks about.

I’m Not Lazy. I’m Misaligned

I used to think something was wrong with me—because I couldn’t just settle into the 9-to-5 and feel “grateful.”

But the truth is, I’m not broken. I’m just misaligned.

I wasn’t built to operate in a world that treats creativity like a hobby. I was built to feel, and bleed truth onto the page. I was built to connect, to speak the things others are too afraid to say, to bring stories to life and remind people of their own. That’s not lazy. That’s sacred.

The Ache to Be Understood

Sometimes the hardest part isn’t the financial fear—it’s the emotional loneliness of choosing a different path.

Explaining to people why you turned down a “perfectly good job” because it would crush your spirit.

Trying to make them understand why this, insane, unprofitable, beautiful writing life—is the only thing that feels like home. They don’t always get it. But I know there are others out there who do.

People building with nothing but grit and a Google doc. People up at 3 a.m. pouring their guts into words no one’s paid for—yet. People like me, who don’t just want to write…

We have to.

I Don’t Have It All Figured Out. But I’m Not Giving Up.

This isn’t a “look at me now” success story. I’m still in the in-between—the terrifying middle where nothing is certain and every step feels like a risk.

But I know this much:

I’d rather be terrified and true to myself than comfortable and disconnected. If you’re reading this and nodding, I want you to know something:

You’re not alone.

You’re not crazy.

And you’re not wrong for wanting more than just survival. Some of us were born to tell the truth.

Even when it costs us.

Even when it scares us.

Even when nobody claps.

We write anyway.

~xo Heather

#WriteAnyway #NoPlanB