Coming Home in my Creative Work

“I love how you’re such a prolific writer Candice.”

Her words hit like a gut punch.
They were genuinely complimentary, coming from a place of awe and good will. And still, hurt landed with them.

Because I felt like a fraud. I wanted those words to be true, yet they felt anything but at the moment.

The truth is, she’s right. When I’m in a writing season, I am a prolific writer. I write a lot and I write fast
Books. Blog posts. Journal entries.
My lifelong word count totals in the MILLIONS.
I write fast and I write furiously.

But when she spoke those words, I had hardly been writing at all. Merely just trickles of words to be able to say, “see, I’m a writer.”

So, here I am, nearly three months after making the determined change to move from Substack back to my own blog. My own space. Growing a new audience merged with the existing audiences who have been here through all the transitions. Still barely a peep since making that change.

So many things have happened in that short time behind the scenes, though, and I feel myself coming back into a season of writing furiously. A season where words flow. (And let’s hope so, because now I have a HUGE project with a deadline and it’s a DREAM COME TRUE!)

I’m rethinking a lot of things as we go forward into this second half of 2026, and making writing a bigger priority in my life again is one of them. I am at my happiest when I’m writing and creating. When “writer” and “author” are two words I use every day to describe myself.

Writing helps me feel like I’m at home in myself. Something I’m intentionally trying to do more of in my life going forward.

When I do go back to coaching other creative moms through their burnout to the other side, I want this creative part of me to be a stable foundation I have to stand on. The body of work my clients can look to to see the processes I’ve walked myself through, where they can see my own craft grow and change.

Coming back to this platform is the best way to do that, and reconnect with where I started. The days when writing was just part of my life, as natural as breathing. Before it had pressure. Before tech scared me off. Before motherhood took my world and flipped it on my head. Before I felt like I was performing.

I’m coming home. Home in my own house, my body, and my creative work. Because one day, when others look at my life, I want her words to be reflected by others.

“She’s such a prolific writer.”

Until Next Time, welcome home,
Candice