Creative writing taught me how to notice. How to sit with a line or even a single word long enough to understand what it’s really trying to say. How to recognize when something feels off, even if I can’t name it yet. I used to think writing was about expressing what you already know. Now I think it’s about listening. First to yourself, then to others. It’s about tuning into the quiet truths. 

There’s a natural honesty that comes when writing fiction or poetry. You build up characters, scenes, dialogue, but somehow, meaning slips through in ways you didn’t ever mean for it to carry. I’ve written lines I intended to be meaningless jokes, only to realize a week later they were confessions. That accidental truth is what keeps me engaged in writing. My development also came largely through group discussion and feedback. I learned that critique isn’t just about pointing out what works or doesn’t, it’s about learning how to enter someone else’s world in a caring way. You start to see that vulnerability is what writing is all about, and how much trust it takes with people to share unfinished work. When you’re the one getting feedback, you learn how to separate your ego from the work, and how to revise even if that means cutting a line you loved, because the work is nonsensical with it. 

Overall, my development in creative writing boils down to my precision and openness. I used to chase cleverness in my writing. Now I chase clarity. Clarity isn’t about word choice. It’s about emotional truth. Writing taught me that growth doesn’t come from being right, it comes from being willing to rewrite in service of deeper meaning.