Stepping Out of My Comfort Zone

Lately, I've been surprising myself. I thought I knew the kind of writer I was, the lane I belonged in and the stories I was meant to tell. But I've started working on short story prompts with the goal of two a month, and this has nudged me into places I never expected. In those places, I've discovered parts of myself I didn't realize were waiting.

Satire, for example. Somehow, I've stumbled into a niche I didn't plan for, yet it feels strangely natural. Maybe that shouldn't shock me, since sarcasm has always been my second language. Writing satire gives me permission to lean into that voice, to sharpen it, to turn the everyday absurdities I notice into something meaningful.

Poetry has resurfaced too. I've dabbled before, but this time it feels different. It's not just for fun anymore. Now the lines carry weight, the rhythm holds meaning, and the poems become little mirrors reflecting back truths I didn't always expect to share.

What's happening is more than trying new genres. It's me learning about myself as a writer. What I can do. What I want to do. And maybe even what I'm afraid to do. I wonder at what point do I completely become the writer I'm meant to be? Is there even such a moment? Or am I always in the process of becoming?

I don't have the answer yet. Maybe I never will. But right now, I'm leaning into the questions, following the words where they take me, and letting myself be surprised.

Because maybe being a writer isn't about arriving at a final version of who I am. Maybe it's about being willing to step out of my comfort zone, again and again, and see what waits for me on the other side.