Write Anyway

Inspired by Miriam Waddington

"A woman who writes has power, and a woman with power is feared. I see you. I see the tremor in your pen. Write anyway."

Why does the pen feel so heavy some days?

Because a woman writing is never just writing.
She is revealing. She is refusing. She is remembering.

Even before ink touches paper, the questions begin:
Who am I to say this? What if they misunderstand me? What if they don’t?

And always, beneath it all — the old echo:
Be careful. Be quiet. Be small.

Why does fear follow the page?

Because writing is exposure. Not just of thought, but of self.
Because there’s a kind of power in female self-expression that unsettles.
And not everyone wants to see a woman name what they’ve worked hard to keep unnamed.

So the tremor comes — not from weakness, but from truth.
The pen shakes because it knows: This matters.
Because once it’s written, it cannot be undone.
Because once it’s said, it echoes.

Why is it still worth it?

Because silence has never protected us.
Because every time a woman writes, she reclaims a version of herself that was once silenced, edited, or erased.
Because truth, even in tremors, is stronger than repression.

Because your voice might be the one someone else needs to remember their own.

Why do we write, even when it costs us?

Because power isn’t always loud.
Sometimes it’s the decision to keep going, even when you’re scared.
Sometimes it’s the line you write in the dark, unsure if anyone will read it — but knowing you had to say it.

Because writing is not just self-expression. It’s self-return.

And the fifth why?

Because fear is not a reason to stop.
It’s a reason to begin.

Write in the fear.
Write in the fire.
Write anyway.