6 Months of Blogging: Lessons I Didn’t Expect
Six months. Twenty-four weeks. Countless words. *Cue internal scream.* But hey, I’m still going.
When I started this blogging journey half a year ago, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Like many things in life, it was a leap of faith—a commitment to show up, share my thoughts, and connect with others, even when the outcome felt uncertain.
The funny thing is, I thought the hard part would be coming up with ideas and hitting "publish." But the real challenge was showing up week after week, even when the audience was small, the engagement low, and the doubts crept in. And yet, here I am, six months later, with lessons I didn’t even know I needed.
So here’s what I’ve learned about commitment, creativity, and perseverance—lessons that apply to any journey worth pursuing.
Lesson 1: Commitment Is About Showing Up, Not Just Starting
Starting something new is exciting. There’s a rush of energy, optimism, and possibility. But commitment? That’s what happens after the initial spark fades. It’s the quiet decision to keep going, to show up even when it feels like no one notices.
There were weeks when I wondered, “Is anyone even reading this?” Motivation dipped, and the silence felt louder than any applause. But I learned that commitment isn’t about instant results—it’s about being consistent because the act itself matters. And eventually, the small wins started to add up: a comment here, a message there, someone saying, “This really spoke to me.”
Showing up matters. Because even if no one’s watching today, someone might just need your message tomorrow.
Lesson 2: Creativity Thrives When You Let Go of Perfection
I’ll admit it: At first, I wanted every post to be perfect—the right structure, the right tone, the perfect balance of insight and inspiration. But perfection is a creativity killer. It makes you second-guess everything and stops you from hitting “publish.”
Over the last six months, I’ve embraced the messy process of creativity. Sometimes, the best posts came from moments of vulnerability or spontaneity. Other times, I scrapped entire drafts and started over. And you know what? The world didn’t end. In fact, the posts that felt the least perfect often resonated the most.
Creativity isn’t about flawless execution; it’s about being brave enough to share your voice.
Lesson 3: Perseverance Is Built in the Quiet Moments
Perseverance isn’t a grand act of resilience or a breakthrough moment. It’s built in the quiet days—the ones where you keep going even though you’re tired, unsure, or feeling small.
I’ve learned that success isn’t about one big moment; it’s the accumulation of small efforts. Every post, every idea, every word adds up. And while growth might be slow, it’s still growth. Even though my audience is still small, I keep writing. Even though I’m never truly sure if my message is landing, I keep sharing. Because perseverance isn’t about the outcome—it’s about the process.
And surprisingly, in those quiet moments of perseverance, I found confidence. Confidence that my voice matters, that my experiences have value, and that the act of showing up is meaningful, even when it feels hard.
The Beauty of a Small Audience
In the beginning, I thought a bigger audience would validate my efforts—more likes, more shares, more visibility. But I’ve come to realize there’s a unique beauty in having a small audience. It allows for deeper connections, genuine engagement, and the space to experiment and grow.
Every comment, every “this helped me,” carries weight. Most of this have come from my circle (thanks, family!), but I’ve learned that impact isn’t about quantity—it’s about the depth of connection. And sometimes, speaking to a few people who truly resonate with your message is more powerful than reaching thousands who scroll by without a second thought.
Why I’m Still Blogging
Six months in, I’m still here. Still writing, still reflecting, still learning. This journey has taught me that commitment, creativity, and perseverance aren’t just about blogging—they’re about life. They’re about staying true to your voice, embracing the process, and trusting that showing up matters, even when the path feels uncertain. And let’s be real—I’m too competitive to quit. I bet on myself, and I believe in that bet too much to fold now.
So, if you’re on your own journey—building a business, pursuing a passion, or navigating your career—remember this:
Keep going. Even when it feels like no one’s watching. Even when progress is slow. Your efforts matter. Your voice matters. You never know who’s listening, who’s learning, and who’s being inspired by your commitment.
Because, as always, “wah fi yuh cyaan un fi yuh.”
~ Meisha